


Dream Lover

by insominia



Series: Dreams of Royalty [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Bloodplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel is Missing (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Dean Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dreams, F/M, Frottage, Het and Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Illustrated, Injury Recovery, Jealous Dean Winchester, Love Confessions, M/M, Marking, Masochist Sam Winchester, Nerd Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, References to Canon, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sam Winchester Likes It Rough, Season/Series 13, Sex Dreams, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Strength Kink, Submissive Sam Winchester, Supernatural Canon Bang 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 42,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25571980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: A standard salt and burn turns into a much larger problem when the Winchesters return to their motel to find that Castiel is missing. The only clues to his whereabouts are the destroyed room and a dead djinn.Sam and Dean quickly find themselves in the middle of a djinn civil war where Castiel is being held by one faction as a bargaining chip to gain control of the Garden of Eden. The same Garden of Eden ruled over by the Queen of the Djinn. Who happens to be Castiel’s wife.Dean is unimpressed. Even more so when Sam decides the easiest way to find Cas is to work with the djinn queen and her followers. For Sam, it’s an opportunity to learn more about djinn and it doesn’t hurt that the queen is personable and open. For Dean, it’s all of his worst nightmares come true when he discovers that Cas apparently has the kind of relationship Dean had always dreamed for them…with someone else. With a monster no less.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Djinn Queen/Sam Winchester
Series: Dreams of Royalty [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853230
Comments: 26
Kudos: 77
Collections: Supernatural Canon BigBang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Canon Big Bang everyone!! :D 
> 
> This fic has been in the making for a couple of years so I'm really glad to present it as part of the Canon Big Bang and finally get it out there! Thank you mods for a fab time! 
> 
> Normally at this point I'd thank my beta [MaggieMaybe160](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160/pseuds/MaggieMaybe160) but 'thanks' seems a bit tame given that she literally transformed this fic. Before she got her hands on it Sam didn't have a side story and the Djinn Queen was a bit character. Now it is all so much more than that and I have plans to write the further escapades of Sam and the Djinn Queen. 'Thank you' seems insufficient in the face of all she's done and all she is but it's all I have for now. 
> 
> I was so amazingly lucky to have [verobatto](https://verobatto-messy-art.tumblr.com/) want to work with me on this and their art is AMAZING. These are strange times for us all but they still delivered gorgeous art that has had me screaming from the earliest sketches. Y'all need to go show them some love because their art is fantastic and you can find the masterpost [here](https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/post/626439801351127040/hi-this-is-my-artwork-for-the-amazing-fic-dream). Thank you Vero for the love you have shown this fic and how beautifully you have rendered it <3

* * *

* * *

_The day is fine without being bright._

_The air is warm without being hot._

_The only sounds are that of the birds and the water gently flowing beneath the wood at Dean’s feet. He shifts a little in the chair, trying not to move the fishing rod in his hand as he stretches imperceptibly drawing a deep breath of air that hasn’t been recycled several times through the Bunker’s systems._

_He doesn’t see Cas arrive. Not that ‘arrive’ is the correct word for what Cas does. One moment Dean is alone on the little wooden pier without even a fish for company, the next Castiel is simply there, sitting in an identical chair to Dean’s. in lieu of a tackle box Cas has a small cooler with him._

_Dean should be happy to see him but he can’t help but huff. He remembers this. He remembers how this goes. How it ends._

“ _I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” he mutters._

_He thought it had been too good to be true. Though he would have thought if it was his own dream he might have actually caught a fish._

“ _You are,” Cas says but unlike last time he doesn’t look worried. Instead, he settles back into the chair and closes his eyes, bathing in the golden light and smiling._

_Dean is glad to see him, even here, even like this. Cas often features in his dreams but rarely so directly. Dean waits for the blow to come but Cas says nothing._

“ _Are you in trouble?” Dean asks when the silence has stretched out for far too long between them._

_Cas only looks over at him in surprise. “Why would I be in trouble?”_

_Dean almost drops the fishing rod in frustration as he gestures pointedly around them. It takes a Cas a few minutes to realise what he means but Dean can see the very moment it clicks._

“ _Ah. Yes. I remember this place. No, I’m not in trouble. Beer?” he asks, holding out a chilled bottle to Dean._

_Dean regards it for a moment, almost suspiciously before he takes it. “Alright,” he mumbles. “But you better not be gone when I wake up.”_

_Cas laughs quietly and Dean’s annoyance dissipates like smoke on the water as he turns his attention back to the fishing._

_He still hasn’t caught anything but with Cas beside him he doesn’t mind anymore._

“ _What are you doing here, anyway?” Dean asks. “I can’t see this is much more interesting than...whatever angels dream about.”_

“ _Angels don’t dream,” Cas replies. There is a moment where he seems to consider something before he takes Dean’s beer from him, rests it on the beams below them and then tangles their fingers together. He wraps their hands together, replacing the chill of the bottle with the warmth of his skin._

_Dean knows he’s dreaming; Cas’ hand is warm in his and he doesn’t pull away._

_Dean knows he’s dreaming; He meets Cas’ gaze without flinching or looking away._

_Dean knows he’s dreaming; Cas’ lips brush against his and he sighs into it, kissing him back with a courage he knows he doesn’t possess in the waking world._

_The fishing rod clatters to the wooden panels, falling from Dean’s grip as he moves to cup Cas’ face._

_The kiss is everything Dean has ever wanted and has the advantage of being entirely in his head, so when he wakes he won’t have to deal with the repercussions._


	2. Chapter 2

“ _ Mustang Sally! _ ” Dean sang, obnoxiously loud, even by his own standards of obnoxiously loud. “ _ Think you better slow your mustang down! _ ”

Beside him, Sam pushed himself as close to the Impala’s passenger door as he physically could, as though he could somehow pass through the door and disappear as his brother smacked the steering wheel in time to the beat of the song.

“ _ You been running all over town now! _ ” He let out a loud whoop, “ _ Whoah! Guess I’ll have to put your flat feet on the ground! _ ” Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached out and patted Sam on the arm, “Come on, Sammy. Sing it with me.  _ All you wanna do is ride around Sally. Ride, Sally, riiide- _ ” he added, forcing his voice unbearably high.

Sam did not sing it with him.

Reaching over he turned the volume of the Impala’s radio down to a more humane level, not that Dean noticed over his own volume.

“ _ All you wanna do is ride around Sally. Ride, Sally ride _ -”

“So...you’re... _ cheery _ ,” Sam said, making a mental note to stash ear plugs in the dash next time they passed a drug store.

“Damn right I am, Sammy,” Dean shouted, even though Sam was sitting  _ right _ next to him. “The ghost turned out to be a ghost. It’s bones were right where Cas said they’d be. We’ve got cheeseburgers in the back and Cas is already waiting for us at the motel. You know what this is?”

“What, Dean?”

“It means our milk run was actually a milk run. Think about it, Sam, when has that ever happened?”

In the face of such logic, Sam could only huff a smile. “You’ve got a point,” he mumbled, wincing when Dean let out another celebratory whoop.

“We didn’t lose anyone. It didn’t look like a ghost but turn out to be some kind of weird super ghost-”

“Super ghost?”

“You know what I mean. All our milk runs turn out to be nasty, let me just enjoy that this one time nothing went wrong.” He reached over and turned the music right back up again, ignoring the way Sam rolled his eyes and singing almost right into his face, “ _ Oh, Guess I’m gonna put your flat feet on the ground! _ ”

They pulled into the motel lot and Sam saw it before Dean did. Dean hadn’t seen it at all if the way he carried on singing was anything to go by. “Dean,” Sam muttered, sitting up straighter in the seat. When Dean didn’t answer he smacked him, hard, on the arm and pointed, “ _ Dean! _ ”

Dean cut the engine as he parked the car, smarting where his brother had hit him. “The hell, Sam?” But then he followed where Sam had been pointing and the door to their motel room. Or rather, what remained of the door to their motel room. Half of it seemed to have been ripped off and lay on the asphalt several feet away, while the remaining half hung from its hinge, twisted at an unnatural angle. There was nobody around, probably due to the lateness of the hour. So late it might as well be early.

“ _ Cas _ ,” Dean breathed, throwing the door open and jumping out, assessing the situation before Baby’s door slammed behind him. He couldn’t see anything and a quick glance over at Sam confirmed that he hadn’t seen anything either. Dean ducked around to Baby’s trunk, tossing Sam an angel blade and grabbing the sawed-off shotgun for himself. That should cover them for the most obvious suspects.

Inwardly, Dean might have congratulated himself for not just charging through the door the moment he saw something had happened, but his entire focus had shifted entirely to, ‘ _ Cas _ .’

“Cas?” he called, as the two of them approached, hardly surprised when Cas didn’t answer. He stood at the edge of the door, raising the shotgun and pausing a moment to make sure Sam had his back.

Sam nodded, Dean nodded, he took a breath and then stepped into the room, lowering the shotgun immediately.

“ _ Dammit! _ ”

The room had been trashed by the signs of an obvious struggle. One of the two beds had shattered in the middle from where someone or something had been thrown into it, the other was on its side with significant gouge marks, probably made by Cas’ angel blade. Cas’ angel blade...which was lying in the centre of the floor, surrounded by the broken glass of either the television screen or the desk lamp. Dean couldn’t tell which.

“Cas?!” Sam called, again, heading for the bathroom as though Cas might have just not heard them the first time. “Cas, you in there?”

Leaning down to pick up Cas’ angel blade, Dean already knew he wouldn’t be. The edge of the blade was stained with blood, as though Cas had sliced through something or someone rather than stabbed them. He looked across the floor and over the walls; there were no wing-shaped scorch marks so whatever had gotten in hadn’t gotten Cas.

The realisation made Dean a little light-headed with relief. Cas wasn’t dead, or at least, he hadn’t been killed  _ here _ . Now they just had to figure out where he was and who’d attacked him and why-

“Dean!” Sam called from the bathroom, “Check this out!”

With one last look around the room, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, Dean picked up the shotgun and swung himself into the bathroom. Sam was kneeling beside someone. A still, unmoving someone and for a moment Dean’s heart stopped as he feared it would be Cas.

But whoever it was, was wearing a heavy overcoat, a faded logo across its back rather than Cas’ standard trench coat. Sam waited until Dean was there to flip the body over and they both jumped back.

“Is that a djinn?” Dean barked, as though the dead man with blue tattoos swirled across almost every inch of his skin could be anything else. “What the hell is a djinn attacking Cas for? We weren’t even here for a djinn!”

He almost kicked the corpse in frustration, but Sam was looking over the body and that wouldn’t have helped. “I think Cas killed him,” he murmured, lifting up the coat away from the body to reveal the recognisable stab wound of an angel blade. “Angel blades kill djinn, apparently.”

Dean snorted, “Yeah, but why is there a dead Djinn here in the first place and where the hell is Cas?!”

Sam didn’t take it amiss that his brother was shouting at him, he knew as well as Dean did that it wasn’t him he was angry at. While Dean muttered furious nothings under his breath, Sam patted down the body, looking for anything that might indicate what had happened. Dean stepped back into the main room, but beyond more blood splatters there was nothing.

“I got nothing,” he snarled, stepping back into the bathroom, “You?”

Sam was still kneeling beside the body, though his attention was wholly on his phone screen which he turned to Dean. “I guess we start here?”

Dean took the phone and frowned at the street view showing a factory that had been closed for some time. He opened his mouth to ask why Sam thought it was this particular abandoned building that the djinn had come from but Sam cut him off, anticipating the question.

“It’s the logo on the coat,” he said, pointing at the faded crest above the coat’s breast pocket, “It’s not much but-” he held his hands out, but Dean finished for him.

“But it’s all we got. Alright, get in the car.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was a short drive and on the way, Sam read out all the details of the factory that they were heading for. Dean didn’t give a single crap about parts manufacturing but he was grateful for the distraction. Or at least the attempt at one. He tried to focus on the road in front of him, on the directions that Sam was giving him, anything but the familiar tension in his chest that only reared his head when they lost Cas.

It couldn’t end like this. Cas had survived worse than djinn, hell, he’d not long come back from being stabbed with an angel blade by Lucifer himself. If the Empty couldn’t hold him what hope did some djinn have? What the hell did a bunch of djinn want with Cas anyway?

“Dean?”

“Hm? What?” Dean glanced up to find Sam looking at him expectantly. He’d obviously missed something. Replaying whatever it was Sam had said last in his head, Dean said, “Oh no, yeah, you’re right, sounds like the kind of place a djinn would hole up.”

Sam held his gaze for a moment and Dean could see him weighing up whether to call him on the fact that he’d clearly missed whatever it was he’d been saying. He didn’t, though he did sigh a little. “Yeah, well...we’re about to find out, it’s just over here.”

Dean followed Sam’s line of sight and pulled sharply off the road through a chain fenced gate that had already been busted open. The sight hardly reassured them. Dean parked Baby and the two of them looked out through the windscreen at the factory which seemed to loom over them in the darkness.

Despite it all, Dean gave a snort of amusement that almost,  _ almost _ became a full chuckle. Sam arched a brow, but Dean waved him off. “Why does everything about our lives look like a badly scripted B-movie?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Don’t let Chuck hear you say that,” he muttered under his breath, slipping from the car and making for Baby’s trunk. Angel blades might do the job, but they’d take the silver dipped in lamb’s blood just in case. If the djinn had managed to get the drop on Cas, they couldn’t be too careful.

The trunk sounded way louder than it should have in the quiet lot, but nothing around them stirred. There was nothing here, not another car, no sign of life. In theory that was a good thing, Dean tried to tell himself, if the djinn were here they wouldn’t know it until they found them. But what he wouldn’t have given for some sign that they were in the right place. A sentiment he almost regretted when they found a way in only to find a dead djinn right behind the door.

“Huh...” Dean mumbled, “That’s...that’s promising, I guess?”

He kept an eye out while Sam dropped to his knees to check the body. “No stab wound,” he said, lifting the corpse slightly so he could look under it, “If Cas killed this guy, I don’t know how he did it.”

“Let’s keep moving,” Dean said, falling naturally in front of his brother to take up point.

So they were in the right place. Something that seemed to become increasingly clear as they slipped through the corridors lit only by their flashlights and some dim emergency lighting which was enough to draw their attention to the bloodstains that decorated the walls. And the floor. Sometimes the ceiling. It was hardly reassuring, but unless there happened to be more than one djinn hideout that had met a violent end in such a relatively small city, chances are this is where they’d find Cas.

Dean stepped over another body.

Hopefully they’d find him soon.

There were semi luminous arrows, glowing faintly against the walls, the kind that had denoted fire escapes before such things had been rigged with their own power and Dean knew, as a general rule, if they just followed those arrows in reverse they’d eventually find the main floor of the factory. There was no guarantee that Cas would specifically be held in the largest area in the building, not when there were going to be several floors of administrative offices to comb through on top of the production facility, but it seemed like a decent place to start.

They found the door to the factory floor slightly ajar, which in itself was a promising sign that they were at least headed in the right direction. Light blazed in the gap and without needing to be told Sam stepped to the other side of the frame, lifting the angel blade to his chest, nodding at Dean to start a silent countdown. Dean tightened his grip on the silver knife in his hand, the smears of lamb’s blood that hadn’t dripped off dulling its glow in what little light they had. He looked up at Sam and silently mouthed, ‘Three-Two-’

On the count of one, Sam kicked the door open harshly but Dean was the first one through it. It had been a mistake to jump in so brazenly though, the transition from dark corridor into well-lit industrial complex dazzled Dean and for a moment he couldn’t see, instinctively reaching for his eyes, knowing as he did so that he was giving the djinn a prime opportunity to jump him.

It only lasted a second, his eyes adjusting relatively quickly, but when his vision cleared he saw that nothing had attacked him and that Sam, despite having come in behind him, was now a few steps ahead of him, staring down the gantry onto the main floor, his weapon lowered and his face grim.

Dean saw the dead djinn. Of course he did, they were everywhere. There were at least two dozen bodies and that was only from a cursory glance over what was directly in front of them. There would probably be more. But, his eyes were drawn to something out of place, even among the blood and the dead monsters; a large sigil spray-painted in bright blue against the floor. The colour wasn’t important, though it certainly made it more noticeable against the concrete floor, even with large patches of it obscured by blood, Dean would have recognised it anywhere.

“Angel trap,” he muttered to Sam, pointing at it, his boots already heavy against the metal of the staircase leading down to the floor. He kept his blade out, just in case something was waiting to pounce, but there was nothing. There was no movement, no sound though Dean picked his way carefully over to the trap. It seemed distasteful to disturb the scene of a massacre even if they were monsters.

He leaned down and traced one of the lines with his fingers, as though that could somehow lead him closer to Cas. “Definitely an angel trap, you think Cas was here?”

Just a few feet away Sam was rolling over a body with the tip of his toe. “I guess so, what do you think happened?” he called, the confusion heavy in his voice.

Dean looked around the bodies and sighed, “I dunno, this doesn’t make any sense. You think Cas killed ‘em?”

Sam glanced over hesitantly, “I mean...he might have but...this seems a bit much for Cas, doesn’t it? And why would they want him in the first place? I don’t-” he rolled another body and paused, “Hey, Dean, take a look at this.”

Dean practically jogged over to his brother, his heart caught in his throat for a moment as though he expected to look down on Cas, something he’d hoped, hell, he’d  _ prayed _ , he’d never have to do again. But it wasn’t, it was another djinn, although he did a double-take and gave a, ‘hm’ of surprise. “That…doesn’t look like your typical djinn,” he said, kneeling down to get a better look, while Sam looked over some of the other bodies.

“There’s another one here and another, and...” Sam paused to look around the room, “I think...they might make up half the dead.”

They were definitely djinn, but they were quite different from the ones Sam and Dean had ever hunted. There were several of those here too, about half the dead, as Sam had suggested, just like the one back at their motel room. Dark with tattoos swirling across their skin that looked blue even though they weren’t using their powers at that moment. But then there were the others, with darker skin and darker patterns that looked less monstrous and more human. If it were not for the way their eyes seemed to glow, even in death, Dean might well have mistaken them  _ for _ human. Excessively inked humans maybe and the sheer number of them would have drawn attention, but there was nothing particularly monstrous about the way they looked.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to focus on the matter at hand. “Alright, what we got?” he called.

“Not much,” Sam sighed, heading back to him, “We’ve got a lot of dead djinn and no sign of Cas or where they took him, assuming they even had him.”

“Well, the dead guy in our bathroom and the angel trap suggests they at least wanted him.”

“I guess, but Dean, why are there so many djinn here in the first place? I mean they don’t even hunt in pairs so where did all these come from and why-” he gestured to the new djinns, “are there different types of djinn now? And what the hell do they want with Cas?”

Dean was on the verge of answering, albeit with an unhelpful affirmation that he had no idea, but he broke off when he heard the screech of the metal door above them and more than one pair of footfalls across the gantry. There were four of them; all djinn, but all four of them looked like the mystery djinn with flowing patterns that looked as though they might have been painted on with henna rather than scalded into the skin supernaturally. One of them was a woman, or at least, the one talking was a woman. Physically, there was little difference between her and the others, she was the same height, totally hairless though unlike the other djinn she seemed to be wearing some kind of headscarf and Dean thought he could detect the hint of a figure beneath her clothes. She wore jeans and an oversized faded shirt that looked as though it had seen a lot of wear and could have belonged to anyone. Her voice was that of a woman though, even though she was speaking rapidly in another language to the three following her.

Sam caught his eye, but there was nowhere they could have run to, nowhere they could duck and hide. The room had long been cleared and beyond the multitude of corpses and the broken down machinery that lined the walls, there was nowhere for them to go. There was nothing to do but wait for them to notice them, which they inevitably would once they reached the bottom of the steps and looked up.

But then the woman clearly said, “Castiel,” in amongst whatever else it was she had been saying and Dean couldn’t help but get their attention.

“ _ Hey! _ ”

“ _ Dean! _ ” Sam hissed as the four stopped dead on the steps, their eyes zoning in on the two brothers. Lifting his hand in an awkward wave, Sam muttered, “Hi.”

“Now you mention it, where  _ is _ Castiel?” Dean shouted, the silver knife still in his hand, as he stared them down, clearly not giving a crap about being outnumbered two to one.

He braced himself for the rush, for the fight that was bound to come but, instead, the woman only cocked her head in a movement that looked so much like Cas. For the briefest of moments, Dean wondered if he’d been forced to take another vessel.

“I...don’t know where Castiel is,” the woman replied slowly, her hand out telling the others not to move. Dean tried to place her accent but he was more interested in hearing what she knew about Cas. “You are...you are the Winchesters?” She looked at Sam, “You are Sam, Castiel says you are very tall.” She turned a smile on Dean, it was soft and so out of place especially when he was shin-deep in dead monsters that it seemed to be chilling somehow, “Which means you’re Dean, I didn’t recognise you without the hat.”

Dean caught Sam’s eye and they both raised a brow. This was not where the conversation was supposed to have been going and why hadn’t they attacked them yet?

“The...hat?” he asked, unsure if he actually wanted a reply.

But she was already hurrying down the stairs towards them, having gestured for the others to stay where they were. She crossed the floor easily, practically tiptoeing over the bodies, reaching into her pocket for something. Dean held his knife up, ready to deflect the blow from whatever weapon she had, but as she neared them she stopped and held up... _ a phone _ ? She swiped across the screen several times before she turned it towards them, showing a picture of Cas and Dean in cowboy hats. Dean recognised the picture, it had been his phone background for a while. Cas had taken it when they had worked that first case with Jack, the one with the cowboys. He had protested having to wear such a ridiculous hat, but he’d enjoyed the novelty and insisted the two of them had shared a selfie.

Dean glanced over the phone, but it wasn’t Cas’, a completely different make and model, a great deal more advanced than anything Cas would be likely to use. So she hadn’t taken his phone.

“How did you get that?”

She had the decency to look confused for a moment before she offered, slowly, “Castiel sent it to me when he took it. He said, he was your huckleberry,” she added with an unmistakable smile, which only confused matters even more.

Again Dean exchanged a look with his brother before he took a breath and snapped, “Alright, what the hell is going on? Who the hell are you? How the hell do you know Cas?  _ Where the hell is Cas? _ ”

“Wait-Dean...” Sam said, suddenly, his hand reaching for Dean almost of its own volition. “I think I know who you are...you’re...are you the djinn queen?”

Dean looked between Sam and the djinn. What the hell was a djinn queen? But the woman was smiling and she nodded. “I am.”

Sam didn’t lower Cas’ blade, not by much anyway, but he did grip Dean’s shoulder tightly, “Dean, this is the djinn queen,” he said, even though Dean had heard.

“And?”

Sam rolled his eyes and in utter exasperation said the last thing Dean had ever expected to hear. “She’s Castiel’s wife.”


	4. Chapter 4

_ Dean’s fingers are tight around Baby’s steering wheel and he wants more than anything to drive faster but she’s already going flat out. _

_ He doesn’t know where he’s going and the road beyond him is dark and nondescript. He’s left Sam in their motel and is driving for the sake of driving. He just doesn’t want to be cooped up in a hotel room right now, reading and re-reading the same few pages about the Apocalypse hoping an answer might have suddenly appeared where there had been none before. _

_ Dean can’t read right now. _

_ Cas was supposed to meet them but he hadn’t been at the motel and Dean  _ **_knows_ ** _ he’s probably okay. He  _ **_knows_ ** _ Cas can take care of himself but would it kill Cas to answer the phone? Dean isn’t angry. His heart is pounding, his knuckles are white around the wheel and he occasionally fidgets in his seat as though his own movement might make Baby pick up speed. But he isn’t angry. _

_ “Hello, Dean,” Cas rasps beside him, having appeared in the passenger seat without so much as the once usual flutter of feathers to announce his arrival. _

_ Dean isn’t even surprised anymore and instead of losing control of the car he pulls over effortlessly. _

_ He kills the engine and the air is thick with the sudden silence. _

_ “Cas,” Dean breathes, all the frustration and worry seeping out of him as his fingers fist into the familiar trench coat and Cas’ blue eyes meet his. “Where were you? I was worried.” _

_ He doesn’t give Cas a chance to answer. Not straight away at least. Instead, he pulls Cas in and connects their lips fiercely. A reminder that they’re okay. Cas is okay. _

_ “You can’t just disappear like that, okay?” Dean insists, practically straddling Cas so he can deepen the kiss. _

_ Cas says something in response but it is lost against Dean’s lips. His hands move to Dean’s hips to hold him there as Dean struggles to pull Cas’ tie from him, fumbling with the buttons beneath it, desperate to feel Cas’ skin against his. _

_ He doesn’t know how they end up in Baby’s backseat and he doesn’t care because he is still in Cas’ lap and the trench coat is bundled at Cas’ waist. Dean has his shirt unbuttoned at last and manages to remove his own top without bumping against Baby’s roof. _

_ Still, he doesn’t let Cas’ lips leave his. He teases past the seam of them, licking his way into Cas’ mouth, groaning when Cas’ lips part in invitation. Their chests are flush against each other and Dean revels in the warmth of the contact. Cas is solid beneath him, eagerly returning his kisses, his fingers moving to make short work of their pants. _

_ They cannot remove them, not with Dean straddling him the way he is and Dean is in no rush to yield his position. Moving would mean releasing Cas’ lips and that is something he simply cannot entertain right now. _

_ He needs this. _

_ His lungs are burning with the need to breathe but he needs Cas more. _

_ Dean feels Cas’ hands on him as his pants are pushed aside, letting his cock bob free between them. Then Cas releases him, just for a moment. He spits into his hand and takes them both in hand causing Dean to roll his head back in time with the groan that escapes him. _

_ He manages to look down to see his cock lined up with Cas’ who strokes them both, his other hand already reaching to pull Dean back in for another kiss. They clash in a kiss that is more teeth and tongue than anything else but Dean moans into it, or is it Cas who moans into him? Either way, Dean bucks his hips, heat pooling in his gut as Cas brings them both closer to the brink. _

_ They come together, shouting each other’s pleasure into each other’s throats as Dean feels their combined release splatter against them and knows it must be dripping onto Baby’s interior. _

_ He doesn’t care. He doesn’t stop kissing Cas. _

_ “You can’t do that,” he whispers again when his breathing has started to return to normal. His cock is softening but he still kisses Cas with all the fire he had before. “You hear me, Cas?” he pleads. “You can’t just disappear like that. You can’t leave me.” _


	5. Chapter 5

“ _Wife?!_ ” Dean hissed, “What the- When did- The hell are you talking about, wife?!” He opened the closest of Baby’s doors only to slam it again immediately after, for little more than the satisfaction of the noise. It did little to take the edge off and he scratched at one of his arms, fruitlessly. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, antsy in a way he couldn’t remember being for a long time and he didn’t like the way Sam was looking at him. Like there was something funny about all this while Cas was out there, God knows where and all they had to go on was a load of dead djinn and Cas’ _wife_?

“Cas doesn’t have a _wife_ ,” he said again, unable to say the word without sounding like he was spitting it out.

Sam held his hands up, as though trying to calm a wild animal. From the way Dean was pacing back and fore, prowling like a tiger caught in a cage, he couldn’t entirely blame him. “There was that time when he went to get the fruit from the tree of life? Remember? He came back with the fruit and said he thought he’d gotten married? It was the day you met Scooby-Doo, there’s no way you’ve forgotten that.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Dean snapped, “But that...it didn’t _mean_ anything, Sam! He married her or whatever the hell they did so he could get the fruit. He hasn’t mentioned her since and now he’s tied up somewhere and she’s got pictures of-” he broke off, opening the door to slam it again. His fingers itched, maybe there was a djinn or two still alive that he could kill.

Of course, he remembered Cas saying he’d gotten married. He’d said it with as much interest as he’d talked about the flight, less interest even. At least flying in human style had amused him somewhat. It didn’t mean anything. They didn’t have a relationship. She wasn’t _really_ his wife. They weren’t...together… or at least...that’s what he’d thought.

_Were they together?_

Cas had never said anything about her, never even mentioned her beyond that one time and Dean hadn’t pried because- well because they’d spent the day in a cartoon, or at least that was the excuse he’d used. He hadn’t wanted to pry and seeing as Cas had never brought it up again, he’d thought there was nothing to pry into. He’d thought-

“Dean,” Sam called, drawing his attention to the door they’d left through where the djinn...the queen...was crossing the lot towards them.

She might have opened her mouth to speak but Dean turned on her the moment she was close enough and demanded, “What the hell is going on? Where the hell is Cas?!”

Admittedly, Dean didn’t know much about the djinn hierarchy, but the queen had to be pretty powerful, right? Still, it seemed only natural that she would flinch away from his anger, taking a step back from them, regarding them cautiously, as though _they_ were something she should be careful of.

“I don’t know where Castiel is,” she said, quietly, “it is not my friends who have taken him.”

“And what the hell does that mean?!” Dean shouted, sounding louder compared to how softly spoken the djinn seemed to be.

“My clan and I, we guard the fruit, we tend the garden, but one of your American clans wants to take it from us. They have taken Castiel in an attempt to increase their bargaining position.”

Dean had nothing in response to that. He could only stare, while Sam seemed to shake his head, “Wait. So...you’re in the middle of some kind of djinn civil war and the other side has taken Cas to get at you?”

The queen nodded and for a moment she looked like she might have been sorry for it, assuming she was capable of such a feeling.

“Alright, so, you make the deal, we get Cas back and we can go back to killing you like nature intended.”

If she was insulted by his words, she gave no sign of it. Instead, she looked between Sam and Dean as though trying to determine if they were serious.

“We aren’t going to give up the garden,” she said, slowly, as though she were explaining something very simple to a small child. “It is a place of immense power, in the wrong hands-”

Dean’s fingers twitched, reaching for a blade that wasn’t at his side any more. “Look, you may not give a crap about Cas, but we do, okay and-”

She cocked her head, in a gesture that reminded Dean too much of Cas at that moment as she interrupted, “Of course we care about Castiel, but we aren’t going to negotiate with them.”

Dean was about to fly off the handle again. Why had Sam taken his blade off him? Why couldn’t he just run her through and be done with it, but Sam took hold of Dean’s arm and steadied him, holding his other hand out to the djinn as though he were mediating some kind of negotiation. Which was ridiculous, there was no negotiation. There was just another monster standing between him and getting Cas back.

“Look, we’re not all that interested in your garden, we just wanna get our friend back, okay? If there’s anything you can tell us that might help us find him, we won’t get in your way,” Sam offered, the diplomatic shit that he was.

Again there was that cocked head, “You misunderstand me, I think. We are not here to fight for the garden. We are here because they threatened Castiel. We were already planning to wipe them from the earth for the threat alone, we did not think them foolish enough to act upon it.”

Sam glanced at Dean before looking back at her. “What are you doing to do to them now?”

There was that smile again, the one that was soft yet chilling. The one that showed her to be something other than human. “Now they will beg us to be wiped from the earth.”

Dean heard himself make an affirmative ‘hm’ that he hadn’t intended to voice but anything more trailed off when he realised Sam was looking at him. Sam was looking at him with _that_ look.

“Sam. No.”

“Dean-”

“No.”

“ _Dean._ Look, we don’t know where Cas is. We don’t know who’s got him, we-”

“We aren’t working with monsters,” Dean snapped, harshly.

The djinn was not offended in the slightest, instead, she seemed to shrug a little, “Castiel speaks highly of you as hunters. We would be happy to accept your help.”

“We are not working with monsters!” Dean said again, louder this time, as though the issue was that they simply hadn’t heard him.

But Sam was pointedly ignoring his brother, his attention fully on the djinn. “You know who you’re looking for?”

“We don’t know where they are, but we know what to look for,” she hesitated, “We understand that they took Castiel from your motel room, perhaps you’d be more comfortable staying with us? It would make it easier to pool our resources.”

“ _We are not working with monsters!_ ” Dean said, even as the djinn handed Sam a card, presumably the place where they were staying.

The queen glanced over her shoulder, back at the factory. “We will dispose of the remains.”

“We’ll meet you here?” Sam asked hurriedly, gesturing to the card and deliberately talking over Dean.

The djinn nodded once before she turned away, heading back to do whatever it was she was going to do to the bodies.

“Sammy,” Dean growled, but Sam held his hand up.

“Yeah, I know, Dean. You don’t want to work with monsters. I’m not exactly a fan of it myself, but you wanna find Cas, don’t you?”

Dean fell silent, or as silent as he could with his teeth grinding together. “Yes,” he bit out.

He could see the relief in Sam when he breathed out. “Okay,” he sighed, “Alright. I don’t like it either, but-”

“Really?” Dean snapped, “You seemed pretty happy to sign us up back there.”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like they’re your run of the mill monsters. _She’s the queen of the djinn_. This is Cas’ wife we’re talking about. She’s obviously got an interest in finding him.”

For some reason, those words hit Dean harder than the knowledge they were working with a djinn.

“Alright, shut up and get in the car, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, stalking away from his brother, still wondering if he couldn’t just kill all the djinn and be done with it.


	6. Chapter 6

The djinn were not staying in a motel.

At first, Dean stared up at the house... _ mansion _ ...whatever it was, convinced they were in the wrong place. He shot Sam a pointed look, saying nothing as Sam reached into his pocket to check the address.

“No, this is the place,” he said uncertainly. Dean could see in his face that he thought they’d gone wrong somewhere too.

“Right...” Dean muttered, looking up at the place. If his jaw hadn’t been set so firmly against the prospect of working with monsters in the first place he knew it probably would have been on the floor. This kind of place didn’t exist outside of movies.

It was all clean lines, white walls and floor-length windows that overlooked the gardens.

Gardens.

Plural.

Cas would love this place, Dean thought idly though he immediately winched at the idea.

The inside was just as impressive; it looked like something out of one of those tv shows that showed off celebrity homes. Open spaces, white walls, minimalist art in black frames, a Goddamn swimming pool.

“This is... _ nice _ ,” Sam swallowed, looking up at a television screen that practically took an entire wall.

Dean huffed, folding his arms in distaste, determined not to be impressed. “You know they probably killed the poor sap who owns it, right?”

“We did no such thing!” the djinn queen said, having arrived behind them without either of them noticing them. Probably because she was a monster, Dean thought. She sneaked. That’s what monsters did. “We’re thousands of years old, we have means of making money.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure you were at Arby’s the other day. I hear they pay good enough for this.”

The queen either didn’t get the joke or didn’t appreciate it. “Actually, I sold something from my collection. I like to collect things from around the garden...I sold a vase.”

“A vase?” Dean asked, feeling his eyebrow raise to his hairline. “A vase paid for this?”

She shrugged, “It was from Sumer.”

“Wait,  _ really? _ ” Sam asked like the treacherous nerd he was.

“ _ Anyway! _ ” Dean snapped before they could get distracted talking about stuff that wouldn’t help them get Cas back. “Cas? Remember him? The reason we’re here? Where do we start?”

Sam had the decency to look sheepish.

“We start,” the queen said, “with you getting some sleep.”

It seemed grotesquely unfair to Dean in that moment that if he were to kill her, somehow  _ he’d _ be the unreasonable one. Cas wouldn’t thank him for killing his wife.

Cas had a wife.

The thought was acid in his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Dean practically snarled. “We’re gonna find Cas and-”

“ _ And _ ,” she hissed, “you are both human. Humans need sleep. When did either of you last sleep?”

Not since the day before when they’d arrived in this stupid town for the stupid case, Dean thought, but she didn’t know that. He was running on little more than the adrenalin specific to Cas-related disasters.

“That’s not happening,” Dean snapped, “We’re going to find Cas and-  _ oh don’t you dare- _ ” Sam was looking at him with  _ that _ look. The ‘ _ I agree with the monsters you didn’t want to work with _ ’ look. “Sammy, I swear-”

“She’s got a point, Dean,” Sam mumbled. “We’re no good to Cas tired.”

He knew that. Of course, he knew that. That wasn’t the point. “Oh yeah, sure, let’s just go get some sleep in the same house as some monsters that feed off dreams. Great plan there, Sam.”

“We won’t feed off your dreams,” the queen tried to assure them, “and you’ll be perfectly safe here, I give you my word.” At that, Dean snorted, showing her exactly what he thought of her word. She ignored it, as she and Sam seemed to be ignoring most of what he did. “We’ll do what we can tonight, if we find anything we’ll wake you. If not it makes sense for you to rest while you can. I...” she hesitated, as though she didn’t have the power to blast the two of them away with a thought. Maybe she didn’t. What the hell did being the Djinn Queen mean anyway? Dean found himself wondering. She wasn’t the alpha so what was the point? “I can show you to some rooms I think you’d be very comfortable in.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Sam smiled.

“Fine,” Dean snapped, “But I’m warding the door. You try and get in and I’ll blow your head off.” The shotgun would be of little use against a djinn but it was the threat that counted.

The queen didn’t even flinch, damn her, leading them up a floating staircase the panels of which seemed to be made of some kind of glass. It made Dean dizzy if he looked down so he kept his eyes level, not giving them the satisfaction of seeing him sway even though nobody was actually looking at him.

“The bedrooms are just down here, I think.” The queen frowned and Dean heard himself scoff before he’d even registered the intent to scorn her.

“You  _ think _ ?”

She didn’t seem bothered. In fact, nothing bothered her. Not Dean’s insults and certainly not the fact that Cas was missing.

Her own husband.

“We don’t sleep so we’ve never actually come up here. You can make use of everything. We only really needed it to keep a low profile.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh, “This is you guys keeping a low profile?  _ This? _ ” He gestured to the doors they’d already passed, two of which were bathrooms larger than the one back at the bunker, which had been built with multiple people in mind. He wasn’t impressed and he certainly wasn’t thinking of how much he was going to enjoy that waterfall shower. Not a bit.

At last, he provoked a reaction. The queen sighed, a little exasperated, “We didn’t take this place with human comforts in mind. I contacted a man here, told him my budget-” she even did the air quotes Cas had done when he’d been figuring out humanity. She was small, small enough that if Dean grabbed her by the head, he was sure he could smash her into the wall with relative ease. “-and he found us this place. You’re welcome to do what you want here. We really don’t have any interest in our surroundings, though we’d appreciate it if you didn’t touch any warding you come across. It’s keeping us hidden from our enemies.”

Finally, Dean had run out of things to insult her over and not just because she’d stopped in the hallway, tentatively looking through the door behind her.

“Is this suitable?”

Dean pushed his way past her, looking around the room. “It’ll do,” he grunted as though it wasn’t the kind of place people dreamed of staying.

“There is another room just over here,” she opened a door almost directly opposite the room that Dean had claimed, “If you think you’ll be comfortable here, Sam?”

“It’s lovely, thank you.”

The way she elongated Sam’s name irritated Dean.

The way Sam actually thanked her irritated Dean.

Her very existence irritated Dean.

“If you need anything-” she started.

“We won’t,” Dean snapped, practically hurling the door shut. It left a satisfying slam that seemed to reverberate around the room. He dropped his duffle on the bed and found a can of spray paint. There weren’t any djinn specific wards that he knew of, but Cas had taught them some tricks.

Cas…

There was a soft knock at the door, Sam no doubt, confirmed when he heard his brother call, “Dean? Can I come in?”

“No,” Dean said, shortly. His fingers flexed around the paint can. They should probably talk, figure out their next move but right now all Dean wanted to do was hit something and he couldn’t rule Sam out as safe. Not when he’d been so keen to throw his lot in with the monsters whose fault it was that Cas was missing in the first place.

He could hear Sam’s sigh through the door. “Okay, just...just don’t do anything stupid.”

Dean’s laugh was a cold, hollow thing that didn’t quite sound like himself. Yeah, right. He wasn’t going to do something stupid. Something stupid like working with monsters.

He sprayed the first line of the sigil harshly, his hand trembling slightly. He’d like to say it was because he was angry but he knew he was tired too. He could feel it creeping in at the edge of his eyes, that vague sting that tried to pull them closed for longer when he blinked.

Even though he was pissed, Dean knew he had to calm down enough to actually draw the warding. If the djinn decided they wanted a snack in the night they could eat Sam and he’d have it coming. When he was done with the sigil he threw the can to the floor, getting some kind of innate satisfaction at making a mess of such a clean and expensive room.

Dean threw himself onto the bed...the gloriously soft but firm and welcoming bed that was definitely not relieving him of any tension just from lying on it.

_ Dammit _ .

He kicked his boots off, satisfied at the ‘thunk’ they made as they hit the floor. On the nightstand beside the bed was a shallow bowl filled with...rocks? Well, polished pebbles at least. Dean picked one out of the bowl and turned it over in his hand; stupid decorative pieces of crap.

He threw it aside forcefully though he shouldn’t have been surprised to hear a loud crack as it connected with the floor-length windows. When Dean looked up, the stone lay on the carpet and cracked glass spiralled out from where it had struck the pane. It wasn’t much but it would do, Dean thought, taking off his shirt and balling it up so he could throw it to the other side of the room.

It wasn’t like he was going to get any sleep anyway. Not when Cas was out there somewhere. No matter how comfortable the bed was. Or how soft the pillows were. He felt so wrecked he’d need more than his four hours. Maybe four days.

His last coherent thought before sleep took him was that he was definitely not going to fall asleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

_ Dean sits in the dark motel room with a bottle of whiskey as his only company. At least until Cas arrives. He doesn’t knock and for a moment Dean expects it to be Sam. _

_ “It’s done,” Cas sighs, closing the door quietly behind him. “I took care of all the monsters at Crowley’s compound.” _

_ Dean doesn’t answer save to take another swig of whiskey. _

_ “Heaven doesn’t require my immediate attention,” he offers as though justifying his presence when he’s never needed to before. _

_ Dean says nothing. _

_ He can feel Cas’ eyes on him and Cas tries again. “I’m sorry about what happened, Dean. I didn’t expect your grandfather to betray you like that, I understand if you’re angry-” _

_ “Dammit, Cas, I’m not mad at that,” Dean snaps before he can stop himself. He takes a breath aware that he’s surprised them both. “I mean, yeah I’m mad as hell but...that’s not…” he trails off but Cas’ eyes are still on him. He can feel them. _

_ He can always feel them. _

_ “Why did you kiss her anyway?” Dean demands suddenly, harshly. _

_ Cas doesn’t see the question coming and it takes a moment for him to realise what it is Dean is talking about. Dean can see him replaying events behind his eyes before he makes a small ‘ah’ of realisation. _

_ “Dean,” he starts, infinitely patient but Dean doesn’t want to hear it. _

_ “Forget it, Cas,” Dean snaps. He throws himself up from the chair just because he doesn’t want to be sitting anymore. He folds his arms and tries not to look at Cas. If he looks his heart will break. “I mean...it’s not like we’re...” he waves at the space before them as though that is enough to explain whatever it is that exists between them. This unfathomable tether that keeps them close but never too close. Never close enough. “You can kiss whoever you want, I don’t care.” _

_ He sounds childish even to his own ears but he doesn’t care. _

_ He just said that, didn’t he? _

_ He doesn’t care. _

_ Cas’ hand touches Dean’s shoulder and Cas leans in to catch his eye. He looks a little lost and more than a little wounded. “Dean,” he breathes. “You must know I-” _

_ “Forget it,” Dean throws his hands up, breaking the small point of contact between them. “Just...it’s fine, Cas. I just-” _

_ Cas kisses him. _

_ Not like he’d kissed her. Not like he’d kissed  _ **_Meg_ ** _. _

_ Cas kisses Dean slowly. Tenderly. As though Dean is the most precious thing in the world and Cas fears breaking him. Cas’ kisses are like worship. They absolve and redeem. Dean doesn’t want to admit what it means to him to be kissed like this. _

_ “You are the only one I want to kiss,” Cas whispers against Dean’s lips. _

_ Dean pulls back reluctantly. _

_ He doesn’t believe it.  _


	8. Chapter 8

It was not often that Sam could wake naturally instead of from the blaring of his alarm. Or, while on a case, Dean’s ringtone. Or just Dean being obnoxiously loud. Or his taste in music. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Sam decided to start that thought process again.

It was not often that Sam could wake naturally instead of...by Dean.

It took him a moment to realise he wasn’t waking up in a cheap motel bed. In fact, he’d never woken up in a bed as nice as this. The sun was up outside but the windows were tinted to deflect the glare, a button beside the bed would lift the shades to give a view of the gardens. Sam pressed it just for the novelty of being able to.

He didn’t stay in bed long though, however much he might have wanted to. It was still early and Cas was still out there, though he did allow himself to indulge in a decent shower. Unsurprisingly, the shower was divine but he wouldn’t lose himself to amazing water pressure and within fifteen minutes of waking up he was standing on the threshold of Dean’s door, his hand poised to knock it.

But he didn’t knock.

He could hear Dean shuffling around on the other side of the door but he still didn’t knock. Instead, Sam let his hand fall and he headed downstairs to see if he could get a head start on the research. Maybe if he had something positive to show Dean he’d stop being such a little bitch over having to work with the djinn. Like they’d never worked with monsters before. And sure, Cas was missing and it sucked but did he really have to sulk over it? Honest to God  _ sulk? _

There were several djinn sitting at a long table in one of the many downstairs rooms which all seemed to open up onto other rooms. For some reason the wealthier one got the less walls one seemed to need. Sam paused on the last step, did he...say hi to the djinn? The table was littered with what looked like maps and they were chattering among each other in a language Sam didn’t recognise but they didn’t look up. So he ignored them, going in search of the kitchen. Even if the djinn didn’t eat, there might be something edible that he and Dean could make do with for breakfast.

He was not expecting to step into the kitchen and find the queen setting out several plates worth of food, more than any one person could eat for breakfast. More than several people could eat for breakfast. Still, she gave him an almost sunny smile as he stepped into the room, “Good morning,” she said. Sam paused, there was something different about her, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

“Uh...morning?” He stepped up to the table looking over the vast quantities of food available. “Did...did you make this?”

She laughed, long and hard, a sound he hadn’t expected to hear but then had he heard her laugh? Was it strange to him that a djinn would laugh?

“By the Gods, no. I didn’t make any of this. I admit I don’t know the intricacies of human eating habits but Google told me that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I sent one of my friends out to pick up some offerings from a diner. We didn’t know what you or your brother would like or how much of it so we chose one of everything.”

That explained the variety.

Her headscarf. She was wearing a different headscarf. Yesterday’s had been a plain cream sort of colour but today’s was darker. Patterned with what looked like flowers? Butterflies? Perhaps they were just swirls, Sam couldn’t make them out at the distance. Whatever it was, it was nice. Feminine. 

“Will this be enough?” she asked and Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, should be. You know between us we’ll probably only eat a plate each, right?”

The notion seemed to amuse her. “No. I didn’t know, but I’m glad to learn. Castiel says your brother likes bacon so-” she pointed to a plate that seemed to be mostly strips of bacon, “-we ensured there would be bacon.”

Sam snorted, “Okay, but just so you know not even Dean could eat that much bacon.”

She laughed again and Sam smiled, taking the plate she offered him so that he could pick out what he wanted from the veritable buffet laid out before him. He wasn’t exactly limited in choice; pancakes, fruit, eggs, bacon, pastries that looked like they’d come from a place so fancy Sam’s flannel wouldn’t have been let in on principle…

He wanted to say that the only thing missing was coffee but he didn’t want her to think that he didn’t appreciate what she’d done.

“Coffee?” the queen asked, holding up a pot she’d apparently brewed herself.

“Uh...yeah! Sure!”

She poured him a cup looking quite pleased with herself. “I can do coffee,” she announced. “Castiel taught me. He says he likes the bitterness.”

Sam took the cup with a ‘hm’. He hadn’t known that.

“Did you find anything last night?” He’d loaded his plate up with far more than he would ever usually eat so he didn’t seem ungrateful. He found a space at the table that hadn’t been covered in food and slipped onto the stool. The queen watched him cut the first slice of a pancake curiously and it occurred to Sam that she might never have actually met a human before.

“We did. We have exhausted all our usual methods of finding other djinn to no effect. It seems they have hidden themselves from us.” Her lip curled in distaste but Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

She raised a glacial eyebrow and he waved her off. “Sorry...it’s just...you’ve warded against them too, right? So they can’t find you either?”

She paused for a moment before muttering something under her breath that was definitely a curse. “Anyway,” she snapped. “We’ve had to rely on more primitive methods.  _ Witchcraft _ ,” she said as though the very word offended her. “We are just waiting for one of my friends to return with the blood of the djinn we killed yesterday then we were going to wake you and your brother up.”

The queen watched him move some raspberries and yoghurt onto a slice of waffle and it apparently made a decision for her. She picked up a plate and started picking out the things Sam had chosen for herself. She obviously felt his questioning look more than she saw it but she just shrugged. “I’m curious,” she said, double-checking Sam’s plate before she took the stool opposite him.

Sam watched her pick up the cutlery, determined if uncertain before she looked back at his plate ensuring that she wasn’t about to do something ridiculous. She used the fork to dip a raspberry in yoghurt before she speared the waffle a little harsher than she needed to and lifted it to her mouth as though it were her only purpose in life.

A smile so bright it might have absolved sins broke across her face and she positively beamed at Sam. “This is delicious!” she said, already cutting another slice. “We have fruit in the garden of course but we don’t have waffles.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the idea that she lamented the lack of an IHOP in the Garden of Eden, but she didn’t notice. She was already experimenting with different combinations of fruit and yoghurt.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself,” Dean’s snarl came from the space that would have held a door if this floor had any interior walls.

Sam tried not to roll his eyes. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Dean was in a bad mood so Sam figured he shouldn’t antagonise him. It might have been nice to not start the day arguing. “Breakfast,” Sam said, pointedly, as though Dean might have missed the excessive buffet on the table.

“I’ll eat when we get Cas back.”

Silently, Sam counted to three in his head and took a deep breath. “We’re working on it,” he said patiently.

“Yeah. Looks like it too.”

“We’re just waiting on some ingredients for a spell and then we’ll find him, okay. You still need to eat.”

Dean’s scowl didn’t drop even as he moved to the table, picking up the plate the djinn queen had left out for him. “You’re a ‘ _ we _ ’ now. Good to know.”

“ _ Dean! _ ” Sam snapped, reaching the end of his last nerve. Dean glared at him but didn’t say anything more except to start piling his plate with bacon. From across the table Sam shared a knowing smirk with the queen but they didn’t say anything either.

Dean took the stool beside Sam and started spearing the strips of bacon as though he were ganking a monster. He melted a little at the first bite, Sam saw it. A small ‘hmph’ of approval escaped him and his expression softened a little. Not by much. But it was a start.

“What?” he snapped when he realised that both Sam and the queen were watching him. “It’s not bad.”

He was saved from having to make any further response and the inevitable ribbing from Sam when one of the other djinn stood in the not-doorway and called to the queen in their native language.

“We have the ingredients,” she told Sam and Dean. She slipped from the stool and started walking away as if she expected them to follow. They did. Dean brought his plate with him.

The table in one of the lounging areas looked more like a conference centre than a homely area but it meant that it served their purpose. The surface was home to several ragged books with yellowed pages and a selection of witchy looking ingredients neatly stacked beside each other. An entire section of the table was lost to what looked like maps of the area.

“What now?” Dean asked as the other djinn stepped back to make way for their queen.

She gestured to the table. “Now, you can make up the spell.”

“Oh we’re doing the work are we?”

Sam wondered if it was a practised skill or something that came naturally to the djinn that Dean’s barbs apparently didn’t affect the queen.

“We are capable of making up the spell,” she replied evenly, “but, I didn’t think you would trust our work. I believe the two of you are perfectly competent spell casters.”

“ _ He _ is,” Dean said quickly. Sam rolled his eyes recognising it as the excuse for him to carry on eating his breakfast uninterrupted that it was. Not that he wouldn’t have ended up doing it anyway. Dean always had hated the witchy stuff whereas Sam had a knack for it. Or at least, that’s what Rowena was always telling him. 

He started picking up the ingredients and glanced at one of the open books. “This is simple enough,” he muttered, a little surprised that they weren’t engaging in something a little more complex. “Just a standard tracking spell?”

“Babylonian,” the queen confirmed. “The djinn originated in those parts and so they are generally more effective.

Sam filed that little short note away somewhere in the back of his head to include in the inevitable write up he made of the case. He had a lot of questions. Once they found Cas if the queen was sticking around and amenable he’d ask them.

It took him no time at all to throw together the spell. Dean seemed impressed. Or at least he made a sound that might have been approval or might have been a particularly delicious piece of waffle. But then, this was hardly Sam’s first venture into Babylonian tracking spells.

“And now...” he murmured under his breath but the queen was already holding out a carafe of what was unmistakably blood to him. “The blood,” he confirmed with a smile, pouring it into the mixture. He had been about to call for the maps but again she had pre-empted him, calling out something that obviously meant the same as one of the djinn stepped forward and slid the larger of the maps towards them.

“Alright. Here goes,” Sam said, pouring the mixture over the map until the paper had been totally subsumed by the bloody, sticky mess. He held out his hand for Dean’s lighter, regretting it when the grease from Dean’s fingers lingered on its surface. The flame sparked on the second attempt and the sludge burned away leaving the map whole and unmarked behind it, save for large droplets of blood indicating where the djinn were.

The queen cursed in time with Sam.

Dean shoved the plate onto the nearest surface, stepping up to get a look. “What?!”

Sam pointed at the map where there were dozens and dozens of bloodstains splattered across it.

“They must have marked up places they had no intention of using,” the queen snarled. “It would take weeks to search them all.” She barked something over her shoulder and two of the djinn immediately took off, no doubt to get a headstart on the searching.

“Great,” Dean huffed. “Got any better ideas?”

Sam turned one of the small bottles he’d used in the spell over in his hands. “Actually...yeah,” he said as the idea struck him. He double-checked the ingredients they had to hand. Neither Dean nor the queen spoke but he could feel their eyes on him. “This spell is really generic with a few tweaks I might be able to narrow it down to places they are  _ right now _ . We’ll need some more stuff though...” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Hey,” he said to Dean, “Didn’t we pass a hunter’s shop in town when we got here? They’ve probably got what we need.”

“If you make me a list I’d be happy to pick up what you need,” the queen offered.

“Oh no,” Dean started. “You’re not going anywhere, sister.”

She arched an eyebrow, “I’m not your sister.”

“Point is, I don’t trust you. I’ll go.”

“I don’t trust you either,” she said, which shouldn’t have come as the surprise that it did. “If you go, I go.”

“Fine,” Dean snapped. “We’ll both go.”

“Fine,” she snapped right back.

Sam ignored them both and wrote down the ingredients. He tried to remember where it was they’d seen the shop just in case the two of them killed each other on their way and Sam had to go anyway. 


	9. Chapter 9

Dean had been driving for all of ten minutes and he was already wondering how badly Sam would hurt him if he ganked the queen and dumped her body where they’d never find it. There was a first time for everything and he’d never been pissed at someone for complimenting his Baby before now. But everything the queen did pissed him off and then she had the audacity to get excited at the sight of the Impala.

“I can see why Castiel has such a fondness for this car,” she said, running her hand over the dashboard like she had any right to it. “Your care of her is quite obvious.”

Dean should have accepted the compliment but he didn’t. The silence between them was palpable but she didn’t seem to notice.

It registered that Cas talked to her about Baby. But then they were married so they probably talked about everything. Shared everything-

“What the hell is your deal with Cas anyway?” Dean snapped as though asking the question might stop the raging of his thoughts. As though she was going to say that actually it was all a hoax. She and Castiel weren’t married and she had nothing to do with him.

Of course, that’s not what she said at all, though she did pause to consider the answer. “He’s my husband?” she offered casually as though her words weren’t slicing through Dean’s skin and into the parts of him he’d tried to keep hidden from the world.

“He’s never mentioned you.” It felt like a victory. A very small one.

The admission didn’t seem to bother her. “No, but then you’ve made your opinion of  _ monsters _ quite clear.”

Dean’s knuckles were white where they gripped the steering wheel. He could barely hear the engine over the roaring in his ears. Was she seriously suggesting that Cas kept her a secret because Dean wouldn’t approve? If nothing else Cas was his best friend. They had that whole profound bond thing going on but apparently that didn’t extend to telling each other about their not-so-secret wives.

“We do not see each other as much as we would like,” she sighed, almost wistful.

_ We. We would like. _

“But we talk on the phone. He often calls me to tell me about times he’s gone on a hunt with you or a movie you’ve introduced him to...”

Dean tuned her out. 

He’d never had a chance.

It had been easy...well...not easy but bearable to say that Cas was an angel and romance was beneath him. Not that Dean had ever checked that that was the case but it had been the excuse that he’d clung to all these years to justify never making a move. Cas would never be interested. Cas didn’t do relationships. It was the convenient shield he could hide behind whenever the  _ other _ thoughts came for him. The ones that were less palatable. The ones where Cas would never be interested because who would be interested in Dean? What could Dean Winchester offer Castiel: Angel of the Lord? What was the love of a particularly messed up human to the most perfect creature in all of creation?

But none of that mattered because Cas didn’t do relationships.

Except...It turned out Cas  _ did _ do relationships. Serious relationships. With a woman. With a monster.

Sometimes he had tricked himself into thinking Cas felt the same. There were gazes that lingered a little too long to be platonic, right? And there was the way his face lit up when Dean came into the room. The way he couldn’t catch his breath when Dean made him laugh. Sam couldn’t make him laugh like that. A thousand tiny casual touches and glances that meant that maybe Dean was special.

Dean wasn’t special. He was every bad opinion he’d ever had of himself confirmed.

Either Cas had felt the same way and found Dean wanting, which he was bound to do. He obviously thought Dean more of a monster than the woman (if she could even be called that) sitting in Sam’s usual seat right now. Or, Cas had never considered Dean in that way at all.

Somehow, he wasn’t quite sure which hurt more.

“Dean?” the queen asked, having apparently been speaking this whole time while Dean hadn’t taken in a single word.

When he spoke it sounded like the words were being crushed from him. “Sorry, what?” And had he just apologised to her?

Sure he had.

She was Cas’ wife.

“I was asking if you had told Jack or Claire that Castiel is missing?”

She knew about Jack and Claire. Of course, she did. Why wouldn’t she?

The back of Dean’s throat burned and he swallowed hard in an attempt to tamp down the pain before it could take hold. He already knew he’d be successful. He was Dean Winchester: hunter, soldier and fuck-up extraordinaire. If he was capable of stringing a sentence together he could have written the book on repressing emotions.

“We’ll get him back before they need to worry about it,” Dean said gruffly, but he didn’t sound as angry anymore, not even to his own ears. “So...he talks to you about Jack and Claire..?”

Dean couldn’t tell if she was oblivious to the edge in his tone or if she simply ignored it. Maybe when all this was over he’d get Sam to ask. Either way, she carried on taking his question at face value. “He does. He wishes he could be closer to Claire but he doesn’t feel like he can make those steps-” Dean didn’t know that. Dean should have known that. “-which is why he’s so pleased that she has you. He says you are an excellent role model for her, better than he could ever be...”

Dean had never even thought about what Cas might or might not think about Claire.

“...And he adores Jack but I think what makes him truly happy is how well you get on with him.”

“We’re here,” Dean said, abruptly. He parked up with a lot less finesse than he would have normally, killing the engine harshly and practically throwing himself out of the car.

Cas had never said. He’d never mentioned her and here she was, privy to all his secrets. Not that they were secrets, not really. It was all just stuff Dean had never bothered to ask about. And he’d had the audacity to consider them best friends?

The shop was just a standard pawn shop but the sigil drawn onto the glass underneath the ‘open’ sign declared that this was a place friendly to hunters. And the djinn queen was heading straight for it.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah,” Dean called, running after her and pulling her back by the arm. She looked down at where his hand met her arm, an eyebrow raised so disdainfully he dropped it and stepped back, holding his hands up defensively. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

Her eyebrows narrowed. “Going to get the ingredients?”

“You’re kidding, right? You can’t just walk into a hunter’s store you’re...well...look at you!”

There was that raised eyebrow again and Dean could have strangled her.

“Just...just get behind me. Maybe they won’t notice that  _ you’re a djinn _ .”

She smiled a little too knowingly and stepped back to let him pass. “After you.”

The soft chime of the bell as Dean pushed open the door covered his huff. Still, there was no time to be pissed at her as his attention turned to the guy behind the counter.

“Howdy,” Dean grinned, holding the door open for the queen out of habit more than politeness. The guy called back something that was probably a greeting but it trailed off as his eyes fell on Dean’s choice of companion. She could pass as human, albeit drawing attention between the tattoos and the headscarf but if this guy had been a hunter once he might click. “M’name’s Dean Winchester,” Dean said, trying to draw the attention back to him. Time to cash in on the fact that the Winchester name was famous among hunters.

It worked too. The guy’s face lit up, “No way. Dean Winchester?” Still, his eyes flicked towards the queen.

“This is my friend...uh... _ Queenie _ ,” he said quickly, leaning against the counter and hoping that the guy would assume there would be no reason for a Winchester to work with a monster.

If he only knew the half of it.

“We’re looking for a couple of somethings for a spell, think you can help us?”

“Probably,” the guy said, “What d’you need?”

The queen had the list in her hand, almost as though she’d summoned it from thin air, though it was far more likely to have come from her pocket. She was wearing jeans again, Dean noticed for the first time. It made her look a little more human. So did the t-shirt. ‘Metallica’ he read in his mind and frowned. How had he not noticed that? Well, probably because he’d been too busy hating her and not paying the slightest bit of attention to what she was wearing. If it weren’t for the fact that counter-guy had ducked down to the drawers that obviously contained his ‘not for public viewing’ stock and given them a moment, he wouldn’t have noticed at all.

“I’m almost out of gold thread,” the guy called up, “It’ll cost you extra.”

Dean was on the verge of making a joke about just heading to a craft store but the queen was already assuring him that ‘money would not be an issue.’ If Dean didn’t already want to kill her, he’d want to kill her. He fixed her with a glare though it was clear she didn’t understand. Just as she didn’t understand what  _ not _ to say to a guy you’re about to barter something from.

He reappeared from wherever he’d been with a tray laden with small bottles and jars. With a swift glance Dean compared the number of bottles with the number of items on the list and reached for his wallet. The queen picked up one of the jars and frowned.

“This isn’t from a tuntre,” she said, putting the jar aside. “And this rue is far from fresh.”

Dean glanced over at her almost thoughtfully before he shook it off. He wasn’t impressed. He  _ was not _ impressed. Not even a little bit. Not with her.

“You trying to stiff us here?” Dean asked in his least most-threatening voice, though he’d have thought the Winchester name would be enough to make the guy think twice about screwing them.

“No,  _ no! _ ” the guy said looking suitably panicked. “Sorry...I can’t do anything about the rue but...I thought...I’ll...I’ll just get you the tuntre bark. It’s just...really rare y’know, I didn’t mean-”

Under the combined glare of a Winchester and his strange-looking friend the guy wilted and ducked down, replacing the offending jar quickly. The queen picked it up and after a long moment which Dean would swear blind she drew out just to make the guy sweat, she nodded.

“How much do we owe you?” Dean asked sweetly.

Outside, Dean took a moment to huff out the breath he’d been holding. “You know...you did pretty well in there, Queenie,” he said and the words didn’t choke him as much as he thought they would.

She regarded him for a moment before her eyebrows shot up in realisation, “Oh.  _ Queenie! _ You mean it as a nickname. Castiel told me for your propensity for such things.”

Well. He’d tried. He really had.

“Yeah well it’s not like Cas ever told us your name,” he snapped.

It would be easier if she got annoyed right back at him but she didn’t seem bothered by anything Dean said.

“You wouldn’t be able to pronounce it anyway,” she shrugged, “Queenie will suffice if you like it.”

He didn’t like it and the idea that he’d been about to compliment her seemed ludicrous and distant.

“Just get in the car,” he sighed.

This was ridiculous. He could do this. He’d been to Hell and back too many times to remember, he could be civil to one monster. One monster who happened to be married to his best friend.

He could do this. He’d already managed to get this far without murdering her, he could hold a conversation with her. Dean slipped into the driving seat and took a deep breath.

Polite conversation.  _ Polite conversation. _

An idea struck him and he took a moment to switch out the tape in the tape deck. At first, she didn’t react, the opening bars were drowned out by the roar of Baby’s engine coming to life. But then the music picked up and even though Dean was looking at the road, he could feel her smile light up the car.

“I love this song,” she said quietly. “The djinn do not create music but we can still appreciate it. Or at least, I can. I’m not sure what my friends think or maybe they just don’t appreciate heavy metal.”

Dean smiled despite himself. He could do this.

“You get a lot of Metallica in the Garden of Eden?”

“It wouldn’t be paradise without it,” she said, wistfully but it wasn’t until much later that Dean realised she was making a joke. “It’s all your fault anyway. I hadn’t listened to any music until Castiel played me your mix-tape.”

Dean’s blood ran cold.

“He...he what?”

“He said it was important in my musical education but I preferred Metallica. I believe it was this tape he played to me over the phone actually so this very song would have been the first of theirs I’d heard.”

Dean could feel himself nodding along as though he were on strings. He wasn’t in control of his motions, everything was autopilot. She was still talking. Of course, she was. Dean had practically invited her to hadn’t he? Her words filled the car but Dean couldn’t hear any of them. He couldn’t hear the music. The only thing in his mind was the memory of his stuttering voice-

_ ‘It’s not much but you’re always asking about music and...and I thought...’ _

He could see Cas’ soft smile as he turned the tape over in his hands. “ _ Thank you, Dean. I appreciate it very much.” _

And he  _ had _ appreciated it. He’d appreciated it so much he’d shared it with his wife.

Dean had been wrong.

He couldn’t do this. 


	10. Chapter 10

_ Cas stands in the sitting room. It has been his home for months now yet Dean cannot help but think he looks out of place. He’s never pictured the kind of place Cas might choose to live but then he’d never pictured that Cas might want to live somewhere. Not like this.  _

_ This isn’t Cas. _

_ There are pictures of Cas on the wall. In most of them his arms are wrapped around a woman and she smiles into the camera. There’s even a picture of them on their wedding day but it isn’t Cas that is smiling. It’s ‘Emmanuel’ the name given to him by the woman who would become his wife.  _

_ Dean knows exactly three things about Emmanuel’s wife. He knows her name is Daphne. He knows that she must be insane because seriously who picks up an amnesiac from the side of the road, proclaims him a gift from God and marries him? (No, seriously, who does that?) And finally, he knows that if Cas goes through with this then Dean will never be able to watch Scooby-Doo again. He’ll never be able to hear the name ‘Daphne’ and not think about this. About how Cas is choosing her over...well...over Dean. _

_ “She’s my wife,” Cas says, patiently.  _

_ “But she isn’t!” Dean snaps.  _

_ She isn’t. She married Emmanuel who didn’t know who or what he was. She didn’t marry Cas. Cas didn’t marry her.  _

_ So why was Cas choosing to stay here with his not-wife? _

_ Cas doesn’t flinch from Dean’s desperation. “I married her, Dean. I can’t just leave her.”  _

_ “You can.” Dean flinches from the venom in his own voice and wonders how they got to this point. “Please, Cas. Just...just come with me.” _

_ “Sam will be okay,” Cas says as though he’s trying to soothe him. As though there is anything he can possibly say that will make any of this feel okay.  _

_ “This isn’t about Sam!” Dean all but shouts and he swallows against the burning in his throat. The burning in his eyes. Everything is burning.  _

_ Cas has always been fire.  _

_ When Cas had met him it had been in fire. When Cas touches him it sears his skin.  _

_ When Cas looks at him it scorches him.  _

_ And now Cas is leaving and all Dean can taste is ash.  _

_ Dean swallows down the lump in his throat. “Cas...please?”  _

_ Cas only smiles at him, that small, patient smile as though Dean just doesn’t understand the obvious.  _

_ “We are still friends,” Cas assures him and Dean knows he’s lost.  _

_ He doesn’t remember leaving. He doesn’t remember how they said goodbye or if they even did. But Dean finds himself standing outside a house, at the foot of some steps, looking up at a front door. Cas is there with Daphne in his arms and she kisses him fondly. The way Dean had always wished he’d kissed him.  _

_ Dean cannot remember what Daphne looks like but he’s sure she doesn’t wear a headscarf and has dark patterns swirling across her skin. _


	11. Chapter 11

Dean Winchester was in love with Castiel.

It was surprisingly easy to admit now. He’d always known it. He wasn’t sure when it was that he’d realised it but when he had, it hadn’t felt like anything new. As though he’d just noticed something that had always been there. Something as ever-present and unobtrusive as the ambient temperature of the bunker, the water in the taps...a constant and unwavering fact.

But still, Dean had not admitted it. He’d clung to it. Treasured it. Nursed the feeling in the very small corner of his heart that had somehow, against all odds, survived everything thrown at it; Lisa, Michael, Hell, John Winchester… But he’d never acknowledged it. If he had then he’d have to do something about it. If he had then he’d never be able to look at Cas again without a longing so strong Cas would be able to feel it grace or no grace. Better to tamp it down where nothing could touch it and it couldn’t threaten the fragile bonds that held them. Cas disappeared too often for Dean to give him a reason to.

“ _ Dean?” _

But that was before.

Cas was married.

Cas was off-limits in a way that not even being a multidimensional being of celestial intent had put him off-limits.

Cas was married to a woman who apparently cared about him, at least a little, though not enough. It would never be enough for Dean.

And so what was the harm in admitting it?

Dean Winchester was in love with Castiel and it meant jack-squat.

“ _ Dean?” _

It had gone from being the most important thing in the universe, something that needed to be protected and safeguarded to the most irrelevant thing in the world. Cas had a wife and apparently Dean was so poor a friend that he hadn’t even told him. Not really. Why didn’t he live with her? Why did he stay? Did he think Sam and Dean were that useless alone? Or...was he so resigned to Dean needing his help that he felt like he needed to stick around out of some weird sense of duty?

When they found him Dean should tell him-

“Dean!” Sam clapped his hands twice in front of Dean’s face, bringing him back to reality with a harsh bump.

He was too close and Dean practically jumped back, pushing Sam away a little harder than he’d intended. “What the hell, Sam?!”

Sam stepped back, his hands held up. “You were miles away. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted. “You done?” Dean gestured to the table behind him where Sam had been preparing the new and allegedly improved tracking spell. Across the table Queenie was looking at Dean curiously as though she could see right through him to the place where he’d hidden the warmth of his feelings for Cas. Dean turned away quickly though Sam was looking at him with those concerned puppy-dog eyes of his. “I’m fine!” he insisted, waving them off.

Sam didn’t look convinced but he stepped back and pointed at the map. “We’re ready to try again.”

Dean gave a grunt and moved towards the table aware that Sam’s eyes were still on him. It was Queenie who took the attention away from him. She looked into the bowl where Sam’s mixture awaited the djinn blood and gave a ‘hm’ of approval. “This was ingenious Sam. I wouldn’t have thought-”

“Yeah, yeah, the guy’s practically a witch you can blame his witchey girlfriend,” Dean grumbled, “Now, can we get on with it?”

Behind him he could hear Sam splutter and when Dean looked up, his face was red. “She’s not my- We’re not- _ Anyway!” _ He turned to Queenie and mumbled a thank you before holding his hand out for the last ingredient. She passed over another carafe of blood and idly, Dean wondered if she was just keeping them in the fridge. He’d kept stranger things in a fridge…

Sam coated the map again but this time Dean lit it himself seeing as he didn’t have food in his hands to occupy him. The blood burned away but this time instead of leaving more than a dozen splatters to guide them there were only two stains gathered in large pools over a warehouse and something that was marked as some kind store but must have been closed for some time if the djinn were using it.

“Do we want door number one or door number two?” Dean muttered though he had to admit it would be a great deal easier to check out two places instead of the multiple options they’d had before.

“We could split up?” Sam offered. “Take one each.”

“I could go with you?” Queenie said to Dean, “If you still don’t trust that rescuing my husband is my priority.”

They looked to Dean in a way that he couldn’t even kid himself was because they trusted his judgement. They knew he’d have a problem. And he did. He didn’t want to be anywhere near her especially when she was content to throw out the word ‘husband’

“You two check out that one,” he said, carelessly, as though he didn’t care either way. He pointed lazily at the closest stain just because it was the one nearest his hand. “I’ll take Thing One and Thing Two over there and we’ll hit up the other one.” He waved at two djinn that had been diligently sharpening their blades in preparation.

Queenie looked as though it didn’t matter to her what they did. It probably didn’t and she called something over her shoulder to the two who nodded their response. Apparently she had accepted Dean’s tendency to nickname things so to him she said, “you’ll need more than  _ Thing One _ and  _ Thing Two _ .”

She wandered off, presumably to find more  _ Things _ to accompany Dean but he didn’t have much time to consider it; Sam was staring at him with his particular ‘I can’t believe you’ bitch face.

“What?”

“ _ Seriously _ , Dean? All this ‘we don’t work with monsters’ and now you’re just grabbing djinn for backup?”

Dean shrugged, “I ain’t stupid enough to think I can take them all down on my own.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’ve been riding her ass since we met her and now it’s-” Sam broke off suddenly, too suddenly, his eyes widening as two and two naturally put themselves together in his brain. “ _ Oh- _ ”

“There’s no ‘oh’, Sam. Drop it.” Dean warned before Sam could even form the words. Naturally, it didn’t stop him.

“This isn’t about the monsters,” he said, slowly. “This was never about the monsters. This is about Cas and-” Sam glanced over his shoulder as though he were afraid someone might hear them. “This is because she’s married to Cas isn’t it?”

Dean fixed him with what he hoped was his iciest glare.

“Oh my God, it is!” Sam laughed. Actually  _ laughed _ . “Look, Dean. I don’t know what the deal was... _ is _ ...between you and Cas but-”

If he murdered Sam would he be able to blame the djinn? No one would question it too hard, right?

“You’re right, Sam. You  _ don’t know _ , so you’re gonna shut the hell up about it and never mention it again, okay?” Dean snapped ignoring the way Sam shot him yet another bitch face. Number 14: The  _ ‘Really, Dean?’ _

Dean was about to disappear so he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam trying to talk about stuff he had no business thinking about let alone talking about but as it was he didn’t have to. Queenie came back followed by more djinn than Dean had even known were in the house. “I have already sent some men ahead to make sure nobody leaves before we get there,” she said grimly, but she seemed to soften a little when she turned to Sam. “Shall we?”

It was without a doubt one of the most surreal drives Dean had ever taken in Baby and there had been a fair few that made the top of that list. Thing One was sitting beside him in Sam’s usual seat and when Dean glanced into the rearview it was to find three more djinn sitting in the back seat looking around themselves as though they were thoroughly intrigued at the idea of travelling in such a fashion.

“You boys don’t get out much, huh?” Dean smirked more to himself than to them.

He hadn’t been expecting an answer. He wasn’t entirely sure if they could even understand him so he practically jumped out of the car when Thing one actually spoke. “The Garden is not large enough to warrant travelling. It is all accessible by foot.”

Dean wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that.

“He speaks?”

“He doesn’t stop,” one of the djinn in the back grumbled and Dean couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous his life had become.

“Well...I know I’ve been kind of an ass but I want you to know when we get in there, I’ll have your back,” he said, feeling like he should probably reassure them given how he’d been behaving these last couple of days. Not that he hadn’t been justified. When he looked up into the rearview he saw the three in the back smiling at him so it had probably been worth swallowing his pride to give them that little apology.

“We know. You’re Dean Winchester. If you were going to kill us we’d be dead already.” Thing One said with the hint of a chuckle in his voice.

Dean laughed again, a joyful thing wrenched from his gut that left his face aching from his smile. He hadn’t laughed like that in a long time and he certainly hadn’t expected to do it in the company of a djinn let alone because of one.

He wiped the mirth from his eyes as he looked over. “Hey, so I feel bad about the Thing One/Thing Two bit. What’s your name?”

The djinn formerly known as Thing One looked at him and seemed almost happy for it. “My name was not meant for the human tongue but I chose a human name when we came here. It’s Dane-iel.” He said it with pride, the way a child would present a scribble on a page and proclaim it worthy of the fridge door.

Dean paused. “Do you mean Daniel?”

“I am sure it’s Dane-iel.”

Dean didn’t argue the point. “Well alright, Dane-iel. Let’s go save us a Cas.”

They did not save Cas.

Not for want of trying but Castiel wasn’t even there. They’d found the warehouse and met with the handful of djinn who had preceded them. They found a way in on an upper level that was inconspicuous and afforded them a view of the entire floor. Which was how Dean knew that Cas hadn’t been there. They hadn’t missed him. He hadn’t been smuggled out during the scuffle that inevitably ensued seeing as they couldn’t hide half a dozen djinn for very long. He hadn’t been there in the first place.

So they’d fought the djinn that were there, losing four of their own in the process while Dean hoped that Sam had had more luck.

One look at Sam’s face when he got back told Dean that he had _not_ had more luck.

In fact, Sam looked like he’d ended up with the rougher end of the deal, holding a bag of something frozen over one eye with an arm wrapped in fresh bandages. Fresh bandages that were already beginning to stain.

“You okay?” Dean asked, knowing from his brother’s expression alone that he wasn’t.

“We saw Cas,” he said, without preamble. “We didn’t get him out.”

Dean let out a breath that was more expletives than anything else.

“There were too many of them,” Sam sighed. “Way more than we saw back at that first place. I didn’t see where they went with Cas but we couldn’t stick around. A lot of them died...”

Dean gave a grunt that might have been sympathy, might have been just an acknowledgement.

They still had Cas...

“He looked okay though,” Sam said, quickly, as though picking up on Dean’s train of thought. “They hadn’t hurt him. Queenie said they wouldn’t. Not if they wanted to use him as leverage.”

Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. Cas was okay. This hadn’t gone the way they planned but he was okay. They could find him again and this time they’d do better. They’d get Cas back and...he realised he was surprised to admit it; they wouldn’t lose anyone else in the process.

“What now?” he sighed.

Sam took the pack off his eye, tentatively checking the swelling with a gentle finger. “We didn’t come back empty-handed. When she saw that they’d taken Cas, Queenie she...well...she brought a couple of them back with us. She’s...She’s with them now,” he added, his expression grim.

“Doing what?” Dean asked though he broke off when Sam shot him a pointed look. As if on cue a scream worthy of a horror flick rang out from somewhere in the house. “Oh.”

The scream cut off abruptly. Dean and Sam exchanged a look but then Daneiel was there holding out a plate wrapped in film; some remains of the morning’s feast.

“You should eat,” he said, quietly, before he limped away to tend his own wounds.

Queenie emerged soon after. Cursing under her breath and wiping her bloody hands on a rag. Even from a distance, Dean could see it was not her blood. She seemed to forget her problems for a moment when her eyes found Dean.

“Dean! You’re okay! Are you hurt? We bandaged Sam’s wounds, we found a...” she paused, casting her mind around for the word. “First aid kit. We didn’t put it away in case you needed it.”

Dean waved her off, rolling his neck as though to alleviate the strain. “I’m good. Nothing a good shower won’t fix,” he lied, knowing that he was going to need several stitches. But he didn’t want her touching him even if it was easier to talk to her while she was wiping away the blood of the guys who had Cas. “You...you need a hand in there?”

She shot him a pointed look but he held her gaze, ignoring the way Sam was staring at him.

“I’m just saying. If you need a hand getting them to talk-”

“No,” she said, quickly. Too quickly. “We have ways of making them talk. Besides you need to rest so you can come with us when we rescue Castiel.”

Dean nibbled at the inside of his lip. He really wanted to help them out. Well...no...he really wanted to lay some pain on the guys who had taken Cas and dared to keep him. The ‘help’ element was an added bonus. But Queenie was still looking at him.

“Eat your food,” she said, softly. “Then have your shower and stop the bleeding on your leg. Sleep. In the morning we will have answers but we don’t need your help.”

Dean rolled his eyes, a little affronted on principle more than anything else. “Why the hell not?”

“There is no need for you to dirty your hands with torture,” she said, looking Dean straight in the eye with that look that went right through him again. “And if I let you I fear Castiel would never forgive me.”


	12. Chapter 12

When Sam woke for the second time in the nicest bed he’d ever slept in he was considerably less comfortable. His whole body ached from where he’d been knocked about the day before, he could feel the bruises that had formed in the night. His arm which had taken the worst of the hits was stinging unbearably even though Queenie had done a great job patching it up. He could see through his eye though, despite the bruising.

This time when he used the nearby buttons to lift the shades from the windows it was from necessity rather than novelty. He wondered if Queenie had managed to get anywhere in the night but right now he felt like he’d need another week before he was ready to get Cas back. When was he ever allowed the luxury of healing though? He’d hunted in worse condition.

_ Although… _

He could allow himself a small luxury. It was still early and the likelihood was Dean was still asleep. As though he were indulging in something forbidden, Sam slipped from the room and started running a bath. There were some impressive looking toiletries, probably more for display than actual use, but that didn’t stop Sam pouring one of them under the stream of steaming water. ‘Lotus, Bamboo and Sandalwood,’ he read as he shook his head in disbelief. 

Two days ago he’d been rolling his eyes at a motel shower that couldn’t even maintain ‘lukewarm’ and today he was inhaling the subtle scent of essential oils through the steam of a bath that looked like he might actually be able to submerge himself completely. 

The life of a hunter. 

He couldn’t stop the groan of utter satisfaction that escaped him as he slipped into the hot water. It was hot. Actually hot. A little too hot for comfort actually, but he’d take it. Sam had never sat in a bath that he could fit into before, so he’d enjoy the novelty even as the guilt slipped in that he was enjoying himself while Cas was trapped somewhere, Dean was torturing himself and Queenie was torturing others. He had needed it though and he couldn’t deny that his aching muscles felt so much better for the soak. 

Breakfast was a comparatively subdued affair compared to the day before but the djinn had apparently figured out an appropriate amount of food for two humans and only gone a little overboard. Today’s offerings consisted mostly of fresh fruit and some granola. No bacon though, Dean was going to go crazy. There was no one else around but before he went in search of everyone Sam loaded a bowl up with some grapes, strawberries and something that was too yellow to be an orange but too small to be anything else.

He almost dropped his bowl when he stepped into the area he’d whipped up the spell the day before to find the djinn lining up their weapons and Dean with them. 

“Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean called around a mouthful of sandwich. He’d already made it to the bacon. 

“The hell is going on?” 

Dean gestured to the table where the blades were piling up. “We’re making sure we’re not gonna get caught out this time. When we hit them we hit them hard. Right, guys?” 

The djinn gave a mock-roar of approval and Sam was left checking the time. No, he had only been asleep for six hours. He’d seen Dean pat the djinn he’d come back with the night before, telling them they did a good job but somehow that had become...well...this. 

“Where’s Queenie?” Sam asked and Dean scowled. So he wasn’t quite in a parallel universe. 

One of the other djinn pointed towards the glass doors that led to the swimming pool. She wasn’t swimming though, just sitting beside the water staring at the ripples caused by little more than the breeze. 

Sam frowned. “Is she okay?”

“Who cares?” Dean shrugged, painting a blade in what must have been lamb’s blood. “She got what we needed. Once we’re done here we’re gonna head out, gank as many of those sons of bitches as we can and get Cas back.”

“And save the Garden,” one of the djinn called and it must have been a running joke because all of them, including Dean, started laughing. Sam sighed, deciding to step outside before his head started hurting more than when a djinn had practically knocked him out. 

“You okay?” he called to Queenie as the door slid shut behind him. 

She didn’t look up. “I dislike having to resort to torture. I feel very far from the Garden. My clan have not had to resort to such barbarism since before we lived there, and now… Now we have killed and tortured in defence of it.” She glanced at her hands which Sam could see were stained with blood that was not her own even though she had clearly scrubbed at them until her hands were raw. 

He wanted to touch her. To reach out and put a hand on her shoulder but...was that...a thing djinn did? Did that comfort them? And she was their queen...did that change things? 

But she did look so sad…

Sam reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. She looked at where his hand was pressed against her curiously and it seemed to make her smile. She looked a little less sad at any rate. 

"You smell nice," she said and he dropped his hand, flushing with embarrassment. 

“Dean said you got what you wanted though?” he offered, steering the conversation onto safer ground.

She nodded, reaching into her pocket and handing Sam a piece of paper that she’d scribbled a list of places on. He ignored the bloody smears and scanned it recognising the warehouse they’d been at the night before, the factory where they’d met the djinn and the graveyard… 

“Wait...” his hand fell away from Queenie’s shoulder as he double-checked the list. He fished for his phone and swiped to the screen he needed comparing the two. “This is the graveyard that Dean and I were at two nights ago for our case.” He skimmed through the notes that Cas had sent them what felt like an age ago about the guy whose bones they were burning. The dead guy who it turned out had worked at the factory once upon a time. Specifically in loading which involved the warehouse they’d stormed… “These are all places linked to the case that brought us here.”

Queenie arched an eyebrow before she started chuckling. Sam let her laugh it out which took longer than he’d thought but she seemed genuinely amused. “Did Castiel find these places?” Sam nodded and she laughed harder. “Djinn can be influenced by the thoughts and dreams of others.” Sam didn’t understand so she rolled her eyes and pointed at the list again, “Whenever they move Castiel is putting the thought in their head as to where they should go next. Perhaps he thought it would make it easier for you to find him.” 

Sam put his fruit aside, suddenly not very hungry. Two days they’d been chasing Cas and all this time…

“Did you show Dean this list?”

Dean was going to be mad. Really mad. 

“No. He said as long as we knew where we were going that was all that mattered.” 

She was still laughing and Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Shut up, you didn’t catch it either,” he snapped without any venom in it. 

That just seemed to make her laugh more. “It wasn’t my case!” 

“Hey, lovebirds!” Dean’s voice barked from a window somewhere. “You wanna cut that out and make yourselves useful? We’re gonna have a lot of djinn to put down.” 

But even Dean hadn’t anticipated how many djinn there would be to put down. 

The graveyard was crawling with them. Dean and Queenie had wanted to head there as soon as they were ready but Sam had at least managed to talk them into waiting until sundown when they were less likely to draw attention. Though how so many djinn had managed to go unnoticed escaped him. 

Sam crouched beside Dean with what felt like an army behind them. The sky wasn’t dark yet; just starting to bleed from pink into twilight so they could see across the graveyard clearly. There’d be no element of surprise. This was going to be bloody. 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean growled, sweeping his eyes over the field as though they could possibly have missed an angel in a trenchcoat among the monsters and tombstones. 

Queenie gestured to one of the mausoleums. “He’s in there.” 

“How do you know?” Dean snapped but she only rolled her eyes. 

“It’s the only one warded with angel traps.” 

Sam looked over the walls of the structure she’d pointed at but he couldn’t see any. 

“It’s there,” Queenie assured them as though she realised they couldn’t see what she saw. 

“Alright, that’s where we’re heading then,” Dean said, drawing one of the very many blades he’d stashed about himself. “We’ll need a distraction.” 

Queenie gave a huff and looked over his shoulder at the number of djinn behind them. Sam snorted; a distraction wouldn’t be a problem. Queenie and a few of the others came with them as Sam and Dean circled around to the mausoleum. There were several djinn milling around it which should have been indication enough that Cas was there. 

There was a shout from the other side of the graveyard and then the djinn they’d arrived with poured across the field, taking as many as they could by surprise. Slicing and stabbing at them with precise and practised motions. 

It was their cue. Sam surged forward with Dean, both of them taking down the nearest two djinn to them before they’d seen them but that was as far as their surprise lasted. Queenie thrust a knife deep into the throat of the djinn who had just about started to react. 

He didn’t see what happened to the others but there was a loud smash and then the door into the mausoleum was open and Dean was gone without waiting for the others. 

“Dean!” Sam heard himself shout, as his feet moved without his permission, thundering after his brother. Queenie and the others were at least close behind him. 

The inside of the mausoleum was pretty standard for the Winchesters. It wasn’t particularly spacious, there were caskets lining the walls and there was an angel trapped in an Enochian sigil with handcuffs, his eyes fixed on Dean and unwavering. 

“Cas-” Dean breathed, managing a whole step forward before the djinn were on him. Sam ran forward, stabbing almost wildly as he went. A part of him was trying to say that there were too many of them, that they were in too close quarters, that they needed to back out and try again, but Dean was determined to get to Cas even as he seemed to disappear under the next wave. How had they packed themselves in so tightly? Where were they even coming from? 

“Dean!” Cas shouted, throwing himself at the very edge of the sigil, striking an invisible wall. It didn’t stop him trying, just as Sam could see his fists tighten as he tried to snap the handcuffs. That didn’t work either. 

Sam jumped in to help Dean who was actually doing a surprisingly good job of holding his own even as outnumbered as they were. A fist connected with Sam’s back but he ignored it, stabbing at the djinn in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Queenie push her way to the angel trap her blade raised against the djinn guarding it. 

They just had to hold on, Sam thought. If Queenie could just break the trap then Cas could get out and they could retreat. That was the last coherent thought Sam had as an arm snaked its way around his neck from behind, pulling him off the ground and choking him. A hand pressed against his forehead and pain exploded through him. Pain and something else...nausea. The arm holding him up suddenly went lax and Sam went with it, falling to the ground with a heavy crash, unable to even brace himself for the short fall. 

He wanted to be sick. He  _ needed  _ to be sick. His vision was blurring and his stomach felt as though he were being stabbed with a thousand knives. His throat burned and he might have cried out but he couldn’t hear himself. 

Across the room, Queenie was one djinn away from getting Cas out of the trap. But Cas was shouting at her, Sam could see his lips moving. She was shouting back, arguing something but he couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t hear anything clearly, everything was just...noise. Then he saw Cas point where Dean had been tackled to the ground by yet another djinn. They just kept coming but Sam couldn’t quite bring himself to get back up. His head was swimming. His vision blurred and the last thing he saw before darkness took him was Castiel, hammering at wall nobody could see, shouting something that was so very clearly,  _ “Dean!” _

“Dean!” Sam yelled, bolting upright in bed, almost knocking Queenie to the ground in the process. “Dean?” 

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Queenie said quickly, forcing him back down against the pillows. “Dean is fine. You less so.” 

Sam winced against the movement and barely in time, rolled his head over the side of the bed so he could empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor. There was a bowl waiting to catch it. From the looks of it he’d already done this...a lot.

“Uch,” he groaned, falling back into the bed as Queenie sponged at his forehead with a damp cloth.

“You’re alright,” she soothed. “You’re through the worst of it. You took a considerable dose of djinn poison.” 

“Isn’t that supposed to make you dream your best life or something?” 

She chuckled, wetting the cloth some more. “Only if they want to feed off you. You were not so lucky.” 

Sam’s stomach churned but he managed not to throw up again. Queenie offered him a glass of water which he took gratefully. 

“What happened? Where’s Dean? Cas...did we…?”

She shook her head. “No. We didn’t.” Her voice was bitter. She seemed smaller than she usually did. Even though she was petite by anyone’s standards she always seemed to dominate the room she was in, commanding it. Now she looked defeated. “Almost,” she said, softly, wistfully. “But then one of them took your brother and Castiel told me to leave him and save Dean. So I did. Your brother was stabbed, lightly, but Daniel has already seen to the worst of his wounds. He’s resting in his room.” She hesitated. “He’s...he is very angry with me.” 

She sounded angry at herself. Her touch was gentle though. She dabbed at Sam’s forehead and brushed away the hair that had fallen in front of his face. She was bleeding in several places herself but Sam didn’t want to point that out. She no doubt already knew. 

“Queenie, I-” Sam started but broke off quickly on a chuckle. “You know, I don’t even know why I started calling you that. You never did tell me your name.” 

She smiled but it barely reached her lips as she leaned over him, wiping a cut above his eye that he hadn’t even known was there. “Your brother started it and I didn’t correct him. You would not be able to pronounce my name. Even Castiel struggles.” 

“I could try?” Sam offered. It suddenly mattered very much that he knew her name. 

She placed a band-aid over the scratch above his eye, brushing his hair back again as she moved away. “It would take you a long time to learn.”

She was crushed. Unsure. Unwilling to even humour Sam on this tiny, irrelevant thing which didn’t seem so irrelevant. 

“It does not matter anyway. I will not be Queen for much longer.” Even the swirls on her skin seemed to blanch at the prospect. Sam was about to ask what she meant but she cut him off. “You need to rest,” she said, firmly. “The poison is out of your system but you shouldn’t overtax yourself.” Her voice sounded far away, dim and not because of any lingering problems with Sam’s hearing. 

“Are you alright?” Sam asked.

She rolled her shoulders though it seemed like she regretted it when she winced against the motion. “Of course,” she said, sounding like she had never been less fine. “I’ll leave you to sleep...” Without really thinking about what he was doing Sam reached out and took her hand, holding her there before she could move.

“No, stay,” he said, quietly. “I want to help.” 

A toneless laugh escaped her. “That’s why all this started,” she sighed. “I was only trying to help and now-” she broke off, shaking the scarf around her face so that it obscured her from view, but Sam had already seen the tears forming in her eyes. A part of him resented the fact that he was jotting that down in a mental notebook – djinn can cry. 

“Hey.” He reached up and pushed the scarf back to where it was so he could see her and wiped away the first tear that had broken free. His thumb lingered on her cheek, his hand cupping her face. And then, without thinking about the what or why he was doing it, he leaned in and kissed her. 

Perhaps more surprisingly, she kissed him back. 

Her hands trailed up into his hair, tangling it around her fingers as he pulled her closer. He hooked an arm around her waist and in one movement pulled her onto his lap. She tasted like the fruit he’d still not identified and there was a tang of salt where her tears had fallen. Her lips were impossibly soft and she kissed Sam like he was the only person in the world she would ever want to kiss. And then she was gone. She pulled herself back sharply, her breath sounding ragged and heavy. 

“We shouldn’t,” she breathed. 

And Sam agreed, especially as he pulled her back in and crashed down against the pillows with her flush against him, kissing him as though her life depended on it. 

He felt her recoil as though she’d been struck and she pushed herself out of his arms, putting space between them as though she couldn’t be trusted. Maybe she couldn’t. She glanced to the door and Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We shouldn’t-”

“No!” she said quickly. “I mean...it’s not that. It’s...I mean we shouldn’t, but...that’s not...” She shook her head as though it could ground her. “We shouldn’t,” she said firmly, more to herself than him. Her eyes drifted back towards him. “We can’t.” 

Sam bit his lip and nodded, aware that she was tracking the movement. 

“Your brother...he...” she trailed off, no doubt looking for an excuse to leave. 

“Yeah, sure,” Sam sighed. 

“I think he needs help. He-”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, saving her the awkwardness of having to justify it. “It’s fine. Go...go help Dean or...whatever.” 

“Okay,” she sighed, but she didn’t look particularly convinced of it. She got to the door and looked back. “You will call if you need anything? The poison will make you feel dizzy for some time.” 

Dizzy, right. 

He forced a smile. “Sure, if I need something I’ll call.” 

He wouldn’t. 

She still didn’t seem convinced as she slipped from the room, the door clicking shut quietly behind her. Though Sam was convinced he heard her knocking the door opposite. Maybe she was going to check on Dean after all. 

Sam leaned back covering his face with his hands. He could still taste her on his lips. He could still feel her hands in his hair. What the hell was he doing? She was a djinn. She was a queen. 

She was married to his best friend. 

He groaned again and felt like he might be sick but this time it had nothing to do with the poison. 

He’d kissed his best friend’s wife. The wife that his brother hated because said brother was in love with said best friend. 

Sam closed his eyes tightly as though he could shut out the world. 

Even by Winchester standards this was messy.


	13. Chapter 13

_ Dean lands awkwardly on his feet, the gravel crunching underfoot as he stumbles across it. Already he knows. He knows this ground. He recognises the sound it makes under his step. He recognises how black it looks in the dark night.  _

No. No no no no. No. 

Not this. 

_ Sam is beside him breathing heavily and they both turn to look at the crack behind them. The rip between the fabric of reality glows dimly through the darkness. ‘Come on,’ he thinks to himself, ‘Come on. Come on!’  _

Please not this. 

_ There is a flash of light and Cas is there. He sways a little unsteady on his feet but he’s here. Dean feels the relief spread through him, filling every part of him as his eyes meet Cas’. _

“Dean?!”

_ There is a flash of light and Cas is gone. There is a blade in his chest but Dean looks at his eyes. They are no longer blue, they glow but not in the way that Dean has taken comfort in. It’s not soft as Cas heals him, it’s too bright. It pours from his eyes, his mouth and Dean hears himself cry out. But Cas doesn’t answer, he- _

**“Dean!”**

A shout wrenched Dean back into the world of the waking. He gasped down air as though he had been denied it for too long. Sweat clung to him but he was okay. He knew the bed. He knew the room. He wouldn’t have gone as far as to say that he was safe but he was safe enough. 

He rubbed at his eyes, not surprised to find the heel of his hand came away damp. His heart felt like it might pound its way to another coronary but he was okay. 

He was okay. 

“Dean?” 

He looked up and saw Queenie standing in the doorway, looking at him with obvious concern. 

He was mostly okay. 

“Are you alright?” 

“What are you doing here?” Dean snapped but as ever she took it in her stride. 

She gestured to the open door in front of her. “Can I come in?” 

Oh yeah. He’d warded the room against her. Letting her in would mean having to get up which wasn’t a particularly appealing idea. He sighed, “Alright, sure. Gimme a minute.” 

He tried to disentangle himself from the covers that had gotten wrapped around him but by the time he looked up, Queenie was already in the room. She didn’t approach the bed though, choosing instead to lean against the chest of drawers opposite. She looked at Dean like he was a bomb about to go off. The way too many people had looked at him in his time. 

“How the hell did you do that?” 

“Hm?” she looked over at the door where the warding was still clearly visible. “Oh...I’m the queen. You’d need specific warding to keep me out. I would have given it to you but you didn’t seem to want to hear it.”

“Then why did you even bother askin’ if you could just walk in here?” 

She sighed, looking at a spot on the floor. “That would have been rude, Dean. You obviously didn’t want me just walking in. Are you alright?” 

Dean crossed his legs under the sheets, resting his elbows on his thighs and rubbing his hands over his face as though he could banish the image of Cas’ eyes burning-

“Dean!” Queenie snapped and for a moment she looked pained. 

_ “What?” _

She fixed him with a look that rivalled Sam’s finest of bitch faces. Number 3: The  _ ‘I can’t believe you, aren’t you supposed to be intelligent? _ ’ look.

“We’re djinn, Dean. We feed off the dreams of humans. Now none of us have been feeding off you or your brother, but you… I know you were having a nightmare. The force of it knocked out several of my friends.” Dean looked up in sudden alarm but she held her hands up to soothe him. “They’re okay. I’ve never seen Daniel take to a bed before but they’ll be fine. Are you okay?”

He didn’t want to answer that. He didn’t want to close his eyes and see wings burned into the ground. But it wasn’t as if he could just get out of bed and find Cas to be reassured he was alright. Cas wasn’t alright. And the monster standing against the drawers looking at Dean like she cared. Silence broken only by the gentle patter of rain against the glass of the walls stretched between them. 

When she realised she wasn’t going to get an answer, she sighed, “Okay, well. Good night. If you would like some help with the nightmare I...or...Daniel if you prefer...one of us can help.”

She turned to leave but the rage inside Dean, the anger that he’d been doing a piss poor job of suppressing since they’d taken on the djinn in the graveyard, spilled over. 

“You should have saved Cas,” he snapped. “You shouldn’t have come back for me. You should have saved Cas.” 

Queenie paused and slumped back against the drawers. She didn’t look like she particularly disagreed. 

“Castiel is in no danger-”

“No danger?!” Dean laughed, a hollow, chilling thing. “Yeah, of course, he’s loving being locked up in an angel trap.”

“I mean,” she said loudly, interrupting him, “they won’t hurt him. They’re using him for leverage, so they won’t harm him. But they would kill you and your brother. Castiel told me to save you. Believe me, it was not my choice.” 

She was telling the truth. That much was obvious from the cold stare she fixed him with. Of course, Cas had told her to go back for Dean. But she didn’t have to listen to him. 

“That’s twice you’ve lost him,” Dean said a little more viciously than he’d intended but he didn’t really care. He saw the hit strike home and she seemed to crumple a little. There was a twinge of regret in his gut. She didn’t look her best. She’d been just as beaten up as much as he and Sam...well, maybe not quite as badly as Sam. From the stain on her headscarf, it was clear that there was a cut somewhere on her head that was still bleeding. 

“It won’t happen again,” she said quietly.

Dean couldn’t help but snort. “Sure.” 

“I’m making the deal,” she said, her voice cracking a little. “We’ll exchange the Garden for Castiel.” 

Dean felt his eyes narrow. This was a trick. He wasn’t sure what the endgame was but he remembered the ferocity with which she’d insisted they wouldn’t give up Eden. 

“I’ve already sent word to say I am ready to meet with their leader. Once the exchange is made, Castiel will-”

Dean shot her a glare. “Look, maybe I haven’t made myself clear. I don’t give a crap about your war over a stupid garden, just get Cas back.” 

“When I do...I’d decided-”

“ _ If _ you do,” Dean hissed. “ _ If _ . You’re not gonna get him back crying at me-”

“But I just-”

“I don’t care!” Dean shouted. Why was she even still there? It was her fault they were in this mess in the first place. 

A quiet knock at the door interrupted the argument that wasn’t really an argument. Sam was leaning in looking between the two of them as though he wasn’t sure which one he was more worried for. 

“You guys okay?” 

“Fine,” Dean ground out. “She was just leaving me the hell alone, weren’t you, Queenie?”

Queenie looked like she wanted to say something more but Dean didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t even want to look at her let alone listen to her stupid justifications for why she hadn’t gotten Cas back yet. It was Sam who gave them an out though. 

He looked over at Queenie and with an awkward scrub at the back of his neck asked, “Hey, so...can we talk?” 

She looked terrified at the prospect and for a moment glanced at Dean as though his company might actually be preferable. “I suppose we must,” she sighed, her voice a little shaky. 

Dean didn’t particularly care what they were going to talk about; he just wanted her gone. He resisted the urge to throw a pillow after them for no other reason than he wanted to throw something. Sam gave him a smile that seemed a little strained as he closed the door and Dean threw himself back harshly against the pillows. 

The rain was coming down harder now so he focused on the sound of it bouncing off the glass and tried to steady his breathing. He was angry and somehow a little grateful for it. If he was angry he wasn’t back at the Boathouse on his knees in the dirt looking down on Cas. A thought that was apparently powerful enough to knock out the djinn who weren’t even feeding on him at the time. He felt guilty about Daniel though. 

_ Daneiel.  _

He sighed and closed his eyes even though he knew he wasn’t going to go back to sleep. Queenie was going to make the deal though. She was giving up the Garden of Eden, paradise if they were to be believed, to get Cas back. Well, it was about time. But Dean couldn’t ignore what that said about her. How she obviously cared about Cas. 

Not enough though. Not enough to have done it sooner and saved them all the trouble. 

He punched one of the pillows. 

It didn’t help but he had to do something in an attempt to sate the anger thrumming beneath his skin. Sam had been hurt. Most of the rest of them had been too and Queenie wasn’t looking too hot herself. They’d lost djinn. She was probably grieving them if that was a thing they did. But none of that seemed to matter because they hadn’t gotten Cas out. Cas had been dragged off again to God knows where just because she was willing to bank on them not hurting him. 

It made sense but who the hell was she to gamble Cas’ life on it? 

The rain sounded nice though. 

Peaceful. 

If he focused on that and the fact that they were going to get Cas back it should calm him. At least a little. 

He must have dozed for when Dean woke, the rain was hammering at the windows and the sky had started to lighten as the sun struggled to break through the storm. He was calmer at least, but perhaps that was because everything ached instead. Sometimes he wondered if the pain that came the day after a hunt was worse than the hunt itself, but he was well used to ignoring the strain and protest of his muscles. His throat was dry. He needed something to drink, and while he didn’t relish the prospect of finding his way downstairs, he could at least check on Daniel while he was there. The guy had had a rough day as it was without having to suffer an allergic reaction to Dean’s nightmares. 

He hadn’t figured out if djinn slept or not but the house was quiet and so Dean slipped through trying to make as little sound as possible. There was a light on in the kitchen area which suited him seeing as that was where the water was but he paused on the stairs when he heard a low exchange of voices. 

Sam? Definitely Sam and...Queenie. 

Of course. 

Dean rolled his eyes and frowned. He remembered Sam telling her they needed to talk but that had been a while ago, right? He hadn’t checked the time but it must have been at least a couple of hours. Maybe? He stepped off the stairs and turned to enter the kitchen only to freeze in the not-doorway. 

He’d expected to find Sam and Queenie talking.

He had  _ not _ expected to find Sam sitting on a stool, totally parallel with Dean’s view with Queenie stood between his legs, their hands linked together. He couldn’t hear what they were saying though he couldn’t tell if it was because they spoke quietly or because of the thundering in his ears. 

And then Sam kissed her. Or she kissed Sam. He wasn’t sure of the details. In fact, he was sure of only one thing. 

Rage.

Rage so instant and ferocious it could have made the Mark of Cain tremble. 

And she dared to claim affection for Cas? 

She was  _ married _ to Cas. 

Dean hadn’t heard himself say anything but he must have said something because Queenie fell back from Sam as though he’d burned her and Sam almost fell off the stool. 

“Dean...Dean it’s not- I mean...” Sam started but Dean didn’t want to hear it. He turned on his heel and went straight back to his room. Clean pair of pants, fresh flannel, boots, duffel. Sorted. He was back on the stairs within minutes and Sam stared up at him from the hallway, Queenie anxious beside him. 

Sam saw the duffle and sighed. “Dean...what are you doing?”

“I’m going to get Cas back,” he replied. His voice was surprisingly level. Restrained. If he let it crack then he’d say something Sam would regret. He might do something Sam would regret too. It would keep. It would all keep. 

He’d head back to the graveyard. There was bound to be a djinn there. Maybe one too injured to have gotten away. He’d get the information out of them one way or another. He practically kicked through the front door and it swung back with such force it almost smashed around him.

“Dean!” Sam called from behind him but Dean ignored it. 

The rain should have been cold against his skin but Dean couldn’t feel it. It wasn’t touching him. 

She was married to Cas and kissing his brother. When this was all over he was going to gank her himself even if he had to catch a plane to do it. 

“Where are you going?” Queenie called after him and it was enough to send Dean over the edge. 

“I’m going to go and get Cas back. _ This _ is why we hunt monsters instead of working with them!” Dean yelled. He didn’t know if they could hear him through the rain and the wind but he didn’t care. He only cared about one thing right now and he should never have allowed himself to get distracted from that in the first place. 

A hand reached his shoulder even though he could already hear Sam starting to lose his breath from having to keep up with him. He swung around and Queenie fell back, almost losing her footing against the wet ground but Sam was there to catch her. The sight of it only renewed Dean's rage. 

“I’m going to do what you two obviously don’t give a crap about doing. I’m going to go find Cas so you keep your dumbass garden and you,” he turned to Sam, surprised at how much he hated his brother right now. “You can go back to comforting the grieving widow.” 

Sam physically shrank from Dean’s words as though they’d struck him. Dean wasn’t sorry for it. How could he be?

“And  _ you _ . All this crap about caring for Castiel and the whole ‘he’s my husband’ bit when you don’t care at all! You never cared! What, was it some kind of pride thing that you wanted to get him back? It doesn’t matter if he married you? That he obviously loves  _ you?! _ Why would that make a difference?” 

The words might have been acid in his mouth just a few hours ago but now? Now it seemed more of an affront that she might treat Cas’ devotion so flippantly. Cas had married her and Dean knew she hadn’t deserved it but this was something else. 

_ How dare she _ .

Queenie looked like she was reaching the end of her patience. “Dean. If you’d let me explain-”

“ _ Save it _ .” Dean hissed. His eyes fell on Sam. “I thought Cas was your friend?” 

He turned on his heel again and started for Baby. He couldn’t remember being so disappointed and angry in Sam before, not even that time with the demon blood. 

“Dean!” Queenie called but Dean was done with them and he kept walking. “Dean?!” 

He reached into his pocket for Baby’s keys.

**_“Dean Winchester, stop!”_ **

Dean hadn’t intended to stop. He’d intended to ignore every call thrown at him. But when Queenie shouted that last time, he seemed to feel it in his bones. As if she’d screamed into his very blood and brought him short. He could feel every drop of rain against his skin. When he turned Queenie looked more intimidating than he’d ever seen her. Her eyes were glowing as were the tattoos swirling across her skin. Dean had never been scared of her before now. He wasn’t particularly scared of her now, he was too angry for that. But the headscarf had fallen back to show the extent of the tattoos across her skin burning with her obvious rage. Even the rain seemed to be afraid of her, burning away into nothing before it could touch her. For the first time, Dean appreciated that  _ this _ was the queen of the djinn. 

“I have lived centuries and never in all that time have I heard a name that strikes fear into so many monsters' hearts as _Dean Winchester_.” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this but Dean sure as hell wasn’t about to interrupt when she looked like she’d sooner break him with a thought. “So imagine my surprise when I meet you and discover that you are an absolute idiot. What Castiel sees in you I will never know.” 

Dean’s stomach clenched but he didn’t say anything as she advanced towards him. 

“Castiel does not love  _ me _ . Castiel has never loved me and if you had listened to a single word I have said to you since we met then you would have realised that it’s you. It’s only ever been you!” 

She was waiting for him to say something but Dean didn’t know what it was she was saying. Cas was...what?

He regretted that he’d come out into the rain. If there was going to be conversation then it should absolutely be happening indoors where he wasn’t likely to get drenched.

When he didn’t say anything, Queenie practically screamed from frustration. “I know everything about you, Dean Winchester. I know your favourite brand of beer and I know that you don’t drink it that often because you don’t want to get used to it. I know your favourite flavour of pie. I know you’re an Aquarius and that you continually steal your brother’s hair products because you don’t want to admit you like the smell of them. I know you sleep with a knife under your pillow. I know that you sing ‘Some Kind of Monster’ under your breath when you’re scared. I know that you used to take beatings from your father that were meant for Sam and that when you came across Famine you felt nothing. I know that you have never forgiven yourself for sending Castiel from the bunker when he was newly human-”

Dean’s throat was dry. He should say something. He should stop this litany of his failings but the words stuck in his throat.

“I know the colour of your eyes, the sound of your snores when you sleep, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. I know more about you, Dean, than I ever wanted to know about anyone in my long life down to the number of freckles you have. And I know all of this because Castiel is and always has been in love with  _ you _ .”

The rain was cold against Dean’s skin. Freezing. He’d have been shivering if he was capable of motion. 

“What?” he asked again but this time he could barely even whisper it. “But...but he married you.”

“To get the fruit from Eden _ for you _ . He was only ever interested in what I could offer because it helped  _ you _ .” She paused and for the first time the light in her eyes dimmed as she turned to Sam. “We did not intend to become friends and of course he is very fond of you too, Sam. But  _ you _ , Dean are the love of his life and you don’t  _ know _ ? You don’t  _ know _ what it means to be loved by an angel? What you must mean to a being who didn’t even have the ability to love until he met you? By the Gods you are dense!” 

She took a breath, her eyes dimming at last. The swirls across her skin faded and the air between them seemed to calm. It no longer sparked with the threat of an imminent smiting. It should have been enough to have Dean breathing normally again but he didn’t think he’d breathe normally again for the rest of his potentially short life. His heart was racing and it was never going to slow down. 

“I am going to get Castiel,” she said, firmly. “I will give up the Garden, bring him home and then when our marriage is dissolved and Castiel is free from further harm, I will leave and you will never have cause to see me again.”

The only sound was that of the rain pattering against the ground. At least until she turned to Sam and softly said, “Goodbye, Sam.” 

And then she was gone. She didn’t walk away; she was just...gone. Dean stared at his brother, unable to quite find any words. Eventually, he found that he was able to move and he followed Sam back to the house. He didn’t say anything. 

Mercifully, neither did Sam. 

Sam sat on the stool where Dean had seen him kissing the queen what felt like an eon ago. Even sitting down he’d been taller than her. She was so small and yet when she’d been screaming at Dean, she’d towered over them. Dean sat next to him even though his clothes were dripping all over the tiled floor.

His heart was still hammering in his ribs. 

He was cold. Very cold. And wet. He desperately needed to change into dry clothes and preferably sink into one of the hot baths and where was everyone, anyway?

He still didn’t say anything. 

He couldn’t say anything. Hell, he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb. Stunned. She’d said-

Well, she’d said a lot of things. 

But she’d said…

“Did you-” he turned to Sam for some reason unable to bear the embarrassment if she’d said that Cas- if she’d said what she had to Sam before she’d said it to Dean. 

“No!” Sam said quickly. “No. No she didn’t. She- No.” He took a breath. “I mean, she’d said that her and Cas weren’t y’know... _ married _ married. That’s why we...” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “But no. No she didn’t say.. _.that _ .” 

Dean nodded and silence fell between them again. 

The things she’d said. At some point they might sink in. 

“So...” Sam started, speaking slowly. “She’s uh...gone to trade the Garden to get Cas.”

“Yeah.”

“On her own.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You think we should go help her?” 

Dean glared at Sam but he couldn’t put any feeling into it. Not when he seemed so incapable of feeling. 

_ “Castiel does not love me. Castiel has never loved me...” _

Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know where she’s gone? Did she tell you where this deal was going down before you stuck your tongue down her throat?” 

Sam flushed beet red. “We didn’t- We were- It wasn’t... _ Anyway _ . She said something about heading to Pontiac but that doesn’t narrow it down. We figured that Cas was feeding them locations but I don’t know when Cas ever went to Pontiac.”

Something stirred within Dean. A flash of memory that finally caused him to feel something. The wind roaring, the walls trembling and then the lights sparking as Dean’s vision filled with.. _.blue _ .

“Pontiac? I know where they are.” 

“Dean,” Sam scoffed. “He could be anywhere.”

“Hey, you wanna help your girlfriend or not?” Dean snapped. 

“She’s not my...but yes. Let’s just...let’s just go.”

Dean practically jumped from the chair, grabbing Baby’s keys from the counter as he went. 

_ ‘Who are you?’ _

_ ‘Castiel’ _

_ ‘Yeah, I figured that much. What are you?’ _

_ ‘I’m an angel of the Lord.’ _

“I’m coming, Cas,” Dean breathed, practically barging the front door off its hinges for the second time. “I’m coming.”


	14. Chapter 14

It was strange to think that Dean had only been on this plot of land once but he knew every step, every tree, every stone that surrounded the barn located in the back end of nowhere in Pontiac, Illinois. 

The barn where he’d first met Castiel: Angel of the Lord. 

He’d only been there once. Physically at least. He thought about it often and dreamed of it more.

He knew exactly where to park Baby so her engine wouldn’t alert the djinn to their presence and how to pick their way across the fields under cover of darkness so they wouldn’t be seen. When the barn came into view it was achingly familiar and strangely comforting.

Dean paused at the sight of it, Sam hesitant beside him.

“What is this place?”

Dean was about to answer but the words died on his tongue. Telling Sam felt like admitting a secret. Something warm Dean had nurtured in his heart even though Bobby had been with him the last time he’d been here.

“It’s a place Cas knows,” was all he said. “Come on.”

There were no djinn around the barn. It was quiet, so quiet Dean wondered if maybe he’d gotten it wrong. Maybe Cas wasn’t here. Maybe Cas didn’t even remember this place. But then Queenie had said...and if that was true then surely he-

“Dean,” Sam whispered, tapping Dean’s arm and drawing his attention to a crack in the barn wall where they could look inside.

He almost fainted with relief when he saw that there were djinn inside. Cas too. He was standing at the spot where Dean had stood all those years ago except Cas didn’t have a shotgun however ineffectual. Ironically, he was trapped in the only sigil Dean hadn’t drawn on all those years ago and he looked furious. The kind of furious that once upon a time would have led to a smiting of Biblical proportions. Dean followed the line of his gaze and saw three women strung up on a rig that was painfully familiar. Someone shouted something and if he adjusted his angle, Dean could see Queenie lying on the floor, sprawled under the fists of yet another djinn. Beside him, Sam took in a sharp breath that sounded like a hiss. Dean didn’t blame him; she’d been injured before but now she looked like a bloody stain on the floor.

Six djinn plus the one that was beating Queenie. Dean could have punched the air with relief. They’d faced worse odds. Sam tapped his shoulder and mouthed, ‘distraction’ as he gestured towards the trap that held Cas. Dean understood immediately even if he wasn’t particularly thrilled at Sam using himself as bait.

They circled around to the doors that had been left open seeing as the occupants hadn’t expected to be disturbed.

“I said I would give you the Garden,” Queenie said, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground. “Why are you doing this?”

The djinn that stood over her clutched at the crown of her head and pulled her up onto her feet, even though her legs shook from the effort beneath her.

“Because I can,” the djinn said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, snapping his face forward and knocking her back down with a vicious headbutt. Sam made to move forward but Dean held him back. It wasn’t time. Not yet.

Cas shouted something from his trap at her in her own language, not one Dean recognised. She replied in kind and got a sharp kick to the head for her trouble.

“Alright,” the djinn sighed. “I think I’ve made my point. The Garden, now if you would please?”

Queenie struggled to pull herself up and just about managed it. She took the djinn’s hand in hers and started muttering under her breath.

“Don’t!” Cas called but she ignored him.

Her hand started glowing, as did her eyes and the swirls on her skin which seemed to bleed into the other djinn’s, drawing them together in a warm light.

“Now,” Dean said, tapping Sam on the shoulder.

Sam barely needed the gesture, already pushing himself through the door as loudly as he possibly could, throwing one of the blades they’d brought at the djinn nearest Cas. Dean hadn’t expected it to actually make its target but it did, catching him square between the eyes and dropping him to the ground.

One down.

Sam barged into the djinn holding Queenie’s hand, breaking the connection between them and sending the djinn sprawling. The others made a beeline for Sam in an attempt to help their leader up and it gave Dean the opening he needed. While the djinn were distracted, Dean forced himself past them, past Queenie, past his brother being wrestled to the ground and past the unconscious women hanging from the djinn’s rig.

He went straight for Cas, throwing himself to the ground and skidding as he reached him, aware that there would be at least one djinn right behind him. The barn was too small to have gained much of a headstart. But it was enough.

Dean dropped to the ground, the angel blade Cas had dropped at the motel seemingly an age ago in his hand and in a single movement he dragged it through the sigil in the ground, breaking the trap. The djinn behind him had the good sense to stumble back.

Wordlessly, Cas took the angel blade from Dean and drove it harshly into the djinn’s chest. Without even waiting to see the djinn fall, Cas pulled the blade back and moved onto the next one. He didn’t even slow down as he passed him, slicing the blade across its throat with such force it was practically a decapitation. Dean had to remind himself not to stare as Cas moved with deliberate, furious precision reminding them all why only the mightiest of Hell could challenge an angel.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, yanking him from the positively sinful sight before him and reminding him that they were actually here to do a job.

He pulled the silver knife from his boot, not paying any attention to the streak of lamb’s blood it left against his skin and threw himself into the pile of djinn that had buried his brother. With Cas occupying the attention of the djinn’s leader that evened the odds to three djinns for the two Winchesters. Dean shouldn’t have laughed but he couldn’t help it. He liked those odds.

Even as two of them broke away from Sam and tackled Dean, he liked the odds, managing to slice at an arm, stab at a leg and land what he thought was one of his most impressive throws knowing that they had this.

Cas was free.

The rest was details.

Somehow, Queenie managed to get her hand around the ankle of the djinn still wrestling with Sam and Dean didn’t know what it was she did to him but he fell away writhing on the floor giving Sam a perfect opportunity to take him out. And then there were two which hardly seemed like any trouble at all and as Dean ganked the last one he saw that Cas’ hand was pressed firmly against the djinn leader’s face, glowing as though it might exorcise him. It probably didn’t but he slumped to the ground regardless and then there was just the four of them and Cas was free.

For a moment the only sound was the raggedness of their combined breathing before-

_“Dean!”_

Queenie had said...she’d said that Cas loved him. That he had only ever been interested in her because she had something that Dean wanted. And now, with his “wife” lying on the floor, struggling to push herself up, it was to Dean Cas went. Breezing past her as though she wasn’t there.

Cas’ hand was on his shoulder, his blue eyes bright as he searched Dean’s face for signs of injury. “Dean, are you alright? Your temperature is rising and your face is flushed, have you been poisoned?”

At that Dean could only blush harder. Cas looked so worried, his touch was so tender. He had been the prisoner for the djinn for days and his only concern was that Dean was a little red in the face.

Queenie had said-

And how had Dean ever thought otherwise?

“I love you,” Dean heard himself say, blurting it out unexpectedly, almost clapping a hand over his mouth as the words left him.

But Cas only beamed. Literally beamed. He seemed to glow under the admission. “Oh Dean, I lo-”

“Guys!” Sam snapped, interrupting Cas even though the sentiment had been clear. Cas’ hand squeezed Dean’s shoulder and they shared a look, a look that conveyed everything they had yet to say to each other.

Sam had managed to get Queenie onto her feet, though she struggled to stay there, one arm flung around Sam’s shoulder as she gripped him to stop herself from falling again. Cas’ hand found Dean’s, entwining their fingers though he shot Dean a look to make sure he wasn’t overstepping. Dean had never wanted to kiss him so badly in his life and there had been plenty of times Dean had wanted to kiss him.

“I want a divorce, ya bokhesh,” Queenie spluttered as Cas and Dean drew near. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, angel.” She let go of Sam and managed a shaky step forward towards Cas, falling easily into his arms and Dean-

Dean felt nothing of the bile he expected to feel at the sight of her holding Cas close.

This was not the hug of two lovers reunited. It was the embrace of a friend and Cas looked over her without even half the concern with which he’d stared at Dean. He looked at her fondly, the way he...the way he looked at Sam without any of the intensity and feeling with which he looked for Dean.

Queenie looked up to catch Dean’s eye, smiling at him as though she’d won an argument he was only vaguely aware they’d been having. He should say something but he settled for huffing a smile and turned his attention to the women on the rigs. One by one they slumped against him as he eased them down, disconnecting them from the various tubes the djinn had fed into them.

Gently he brought them around knowing from experience that they would be groggy rather than hurt. They’d run them to a hospital on their way back. They’d probably just need some fluids, a good night sleep and maybe a good cover story that involved some deranged psycho rather than monsters bartering an angel for the Garden of Eden.

There was movement beside him and Dean clocked it in the corner of his eye but took a beat too long to realise what it was. At first he thought it was just one of the women, shifting as she slowly came back to reality but then Sam shouted to him and he knew something was wrong.

The other side’s leader, the one who had started all this in motion, the one Cas had flung to the ground and thought dead...was not dead. He had a blade of his own and ridiculously Dean’s first thought was that it looked almost fancy as it glowed at his touch. Like something out of Lord of the Rings or Moondoor. Even though it had caught him by surprise, Dean had been hunting things and saving people for long enough that his body reacted instinctively, placing itself between the djinn and their victims even though he knew they wouldn’t be the target.

The djinn raised its blade that was practically a sword and Dean closed his eyes waiting for the blow.

The blow didn’t come but the inevitable cry of pain did.

When Dean opened his eyes Cas had tackled the djinn to the ground and was stabbing at him with his angel blade making sure that there was no chance he could come back from it. Queenie was sprawled on the floor in front of Dean, grinning at him even though her chest seemed to be heaving with the effort of breathing.

The blade had caught her in her side and, until now, he hadn’t appreciated just how much brighter a shade of red her blood was.

There was a lot of blood and an unnatural gurgling noise that seemed to be coming from deeper than her throat. Dean practically tore his flannel off, shrugging his arms out of it and balling it up against the flow of blood. It was drenched in seconds and Dean heard himself growl in frustration. “Come on!” he snapped as though his annoyance alone would be enough to stem the blood.

Cas and Sam joined them. Sam looked somehow paler than Queenie while Cas nudged Dean’s hand aside.

“Let me,” he breathed, holding his hand over the wound and trying to use what grace he could to bind the flesh together. Dean hadn’t known he could heal monsters and when Cas drew his hand away it was clear that he couldn’t. The stab wound had been reduced to a vicious gash, one that could be dealt with with greater ease than Dean had managed with his flannel. But Queenie was still struggling to breathe, a trickle of blood forming at the corner of her lips.

“What now?” Dean asked looking to Cas but not reassured by the look in his eyes. “Cas?”

“I can’t do much more,” Cas sighed but his eyes flickered to the rigs behind Dean.

Dean looked over his shoulder at them and back at Cas. “Will that help?”

Cas raised his arms in a gesture of defeat. “She’s a djinn,” he offered. “That is their natural means of recovery...”

Dean looked at Sam but Sam only shrugged even if his face looked panicked. “Alright,” Dean snapped. “Rig me up.”

“Dean!” Sam said, holding out to hold his arm to stop him. “Let-”

“You look like hammered crap, Sam. Besides, you’ve already taken one dose of djinn poison so shut up and help me get this damned thing in my arm.”

It didn’t really surprise Dean that it was Cas who knew how to rig the thing up. He connected Dean and Queenie to the same rig as though he was well practised in such things. Though he’d probably learned from watching his captors over the last few days.

Sam cradled Queenie’s head in his lap whispering reassurances to her though Dean couldn’t tell if she was coherent enough to know what he was saying or what was going on around her.

Cas took one of her hands and raised it to Dean’s face. It was colder than he’d remembered. Too cold.

Queenie made a strangled sound in the back of her throat and almost bucked out of Sam’s lap entirely. But Cas was there to ease her down.

“We’re here,” Cas soothed. “You’re going to be okay but you need to put Dean under so he can help you get better.”

She shook her head with surprising vehemence given how fast she was fading.

“C’mon, Queenie,” Sam breathed. “He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Dean chimed in, hoping that maybe he might be able to sway the argument. “C’mon, you must have wanted to poison me at least once in the last few days.”

She laughed or at least it sounded like she’d intended to laugh before it got caught in her throat and became a coughing fit. But her hand had started to feel warm against Dean’s face. He braced himself for the familiar feeling of dizziness but it didn’t come. In the end when the darkness took him it felt more like slipping into a warm bath and with Cas’ eyes on him until Dean couldn’t see them anymore, he knew he’d be alright. 


	15. Chapter 15

Sam wasn’t a stranger to driving Baby but it still felt a little weird to be in the driving seat. Even weirder to look in the rearview and see Dean passed out on the back seat. Weirder still to have him passed out beside the queen of the djinn and joined to her by a rig that seemed to be the only thing keeping her alive.

Cas was quiet in Sam’s usual seat but he seemed to be smiling. Even as he’d rigged Dean up, he’d been smiling. He’d been smiling to himself as he’d gotten the djinn victims into the Impala and driven them to the hospital. He’d been smiling when he came back and helped Sam move Dean and Queenie into the back seat, trying not to disturb the tubes that connected them.

It was a long drive back to the house where hopefully one of the other djinn would be able to tell them if rigging Dean up the way they had would have any effect at all. Cas seemed to think it would help but he didn’t  _ know _ . But Queenie’s breathing had levelled out and the bleeding had stopped so...that was a good sign?

“Hey, so...you okay, Cas?” Sam asked after they’d passed almost an hour without having said anything to each other.

He kept his eyes on the road but he felt Cas’ smile light up the car.

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You sure? I mean they’ve had you tied up for a few days now.”

Cas seemed to consider that for a moment. “It’s been a frustrating few days. I had thought you might catch up with us sooner but I hadn’t expected them to have the numbers they did.”

Sam scoffed, “Yeah, can’t say we did either.”

“I’m glad it’s over,” Cas sighed, stretching out as much as he could. He looked over his shoulder at the back seat. “I’m glad they became friends.”

“Friends?” Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “Friends?” All the tension he’d been carrying since the fight bubbled over into hysterics. He couldn’t help it.

He could feel Cas frowning. “I’ve missed something.”

“Oh man, you have no idea how close Dean came to killing her. They’ve been at each other’s throats since they met. Well...alright it was mostly Dean at her throat. He’s been ready to gank her for days.”

“Why?”

“Why, what?” Sam asked.

Cas huffed, “What does he have against her? I always thought her quite friendly. They share many interests...”

Sam looked into the rearview again as though Dean or Queenie might have woken up and saved him from the conversation. But they were oblivious which Sam quite envied.

“So uh...Dean didn’t like her because she’s y’know...” There was a long pause in which Cas’ lack of answer showed that no, he didn’t know. “Because she’s your wife.”

“Oh. Surely he knows that it never mattered?”

“Cas, I’m not even going to go there, man. You guys can talk about that later.”

There was that smile again. Soft, almost hidden but spilling over as though he couldn’t quite contain it. “He told me he loves me.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile, however awkward he felt. When it came down to it all he wanted...all he had ever wanted was for Dean to be happy. And if it meant that the two of them would pack in the longing stares then all the better. “Yeah...Queenie might have spelled it out for him.”

“Queenie?”

They exchanged a confused look. Cas confused as to who Queenie was, Sam confused as to how he didn’t know.

“Uh yeah...the queen?” Sam gestured to the back seat with his thumb and Cas looked over as though there might be someone else back there that he’d missed.

“That’s not her name,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, I got that. But Dean started calling her Queenie and it stuck.”

Under his breath, Cas started chuckling. “She must have been ecstatic to have been given a nickname by Dean Winchester.”

Sam scoffed, “She said she liked it but I mean...she almost killed him just before she left to come find you.”

“Why?”

Sam opened his mouth to answer but the words died somewhere in his throat.

“They uh...got...into an argument.”

More than anything he wanted Cas to drop it. To accept it and move on. He didn’t need to know what had sparked the big fight. Or maybe he did. His eyes wandered without his volition to the rearview where Queenie was sleeping with her head resting on Dean’s shoulder. He needed to tell Cas.

How did he tell Cas?

‘ _ Hey so, funny story...I kinda kissed your wife and then I kinda kissed her again and I know now that you and her aren’t like married in a traditional sense but I didn’t know that at the time. And Dean caught us kissing and lost his mind and-’ _

“She’s always been so reasonable,” Cas muttered under his breath as though he’d been presented with a particularly complex puzzle. “I didn’t-”

“We kissed,” Sam said, blurting it out into a car that suddenly felt too hot. He could feel Cas’ eyes on him. “I mean...Queenie and I- we kissed. I kissed her, she...she kissed me...we...we kissed.”

Cas’ eyes were still on him but Sam couldn’t look at him.

The silence drew out between them before Cas eventually said, “...and?”

“And what?!”

“I don’t understand why that would lead to an argument?”

Sam looked back into the rearview. He should have insisted he be the one to be knocked out. Dean and Cas could have taken them home, talked out their feelings or whatever the hell they were going to be doing with each other and Sam could have been quite oblivious and not having to explain to an angel why it was bad that his best friend had kissed his wife.

“Cas...she’s your wife,” Sam sighed. “And I’m sorry, okay. I really am, I know that you guys aren’t...weren’t...whatever but I didn’t know that at the time.”

“Sam I really don’t care that the two of you kissed. If it makes you feel better, we never did and our ‘wedding’ was entirely an exchange which allowed me to return with the fruit. It... _ Oh! _ ” Cas said so suddenly Sam almost floored the brake but he managed to get himself under control in time to not throw them all through the windshield. “Dean thought we were married? That we were lovers?”

Out of the corner of his eye Sam could see Cas turn to look back at Dean, the fondness in his gaze unmistakeable.

“He walked in on us kissing,” Sam mumbled, unable to stop the flush from creeping into his cheeks. There was not enough air in the car. There was not enough air in the world for this conversation. “He was so angry, kept telling her that she didn’t deserve your love. He wasn’t too happy with me either and then Queenie went full djinn queen on him and told him exactly what she thought of him and what an idiot he was for not knowing that...that...y’know...you’ve been in love with him the whole time.”

“ _ She what?! _ ” Cas yelped and Sam just had to take his eyes off the road just to see why Cas looked so terrified.

He tried not to laugh at how intense Cas’ eyes looked. He was practically biting his lip from nervousness. When had the conversation flipped in such a way that Cas was now the one feeling uncomfortable? It was pretty funny. Sam couldn’t help it, he looked at Cas and chuckled.

“It was pretty dramatic. It was raining, her eyes were glowing, Dean was terrified,” Sam added feeling like he could embellish the details a little. “And she told him that you were...” He wished there was a gesture that could say ‘ _ in love with my brother on a level hitherto unknown on earth’ _ but he had to settle for waving his arm vaguely in Dean’s direction.

Cas was quiet for a long while. “How do you think she knew?”

Sam looked over at him with a look he usually levelled at his brother. He was a step away from snapping,  _ ‘Really, Dean?’ _ from habit alone.

There was another silence.

“I do love him.”

“I know, Cas.”

They were still a few hours away from the house so Sam decided to start driving like Dean. As though by pushing the pedal to the floor he could escape this conversation. Not that he wasn’t happy for Cas...or Dean. But...it had been a long day. It had been a really long forty-eight hours which had seen him poisoned by a djinn, kissed by a queen and almost laid out by his brother. He really didn’t want to be having this conversation. When Dean woke up, him and Cas could talk about it and Sam could escape to rest in blessed oblivion.

“He said he loves me.”

“Yeah.”

Despite it all, Sam couldn’t help but smile. He really was happy for them and if it meant the two of them would stop staring at each other with those longing, soulful gazes that managed to suck all the air from the bunker’s circulation system then all the better.

Mercifully, Cas didn’t say anything beyond general questions about how they’d tracked the djinn having apparently completely missed the clues Cas had been leaving them regarding the case that had brought them there in the first place. Though he did keep looking over his shoulder at Dean, smiling as though he were constantly surprised to see him still there.

The house was almost in view when Cas brought  _ it _ up again.

“I really don’t mind that you and...Queenie?” he stumbled over the name, “kissed. You’re welcome to do whatever you want to and with each other.”

Sam felt his blood pressure spiking and his face had surely never been so red.

“Uh...thanks, Cas,” he managed to stutter out.

“Though, I think you should remember that you kissed my wife before you knew I didn’t consider her my wife when you inevitably walk in on Dean and myself mid-coitus.”

“Shut up, Cas.”

“I just-”

“No, seriously, you can stop talking now. We’re here.”

Cas took a moment to look out the window at the house. “This isn’t the motel?”

It took Sam a moment to realise that the last place Cas had seen them lay their heads was the dingy motel sporting dead djinn decoration.

There were a handful of living djinn waiting outside the house, drawn by the sound of the Impala’s distinctive engine. Sam recognised them as the ones that had accompanied Dean when they’d first split up looking for Cas, the ones who had laughed with him over breakfast and bloody knives.

“Should we disconnect them?” Sam asked, looking between Queenie and Dean. The colour had come back to her cheeks and she seemed to be breathing normally; the chilling gurgling noise in the back of her lungs had gone which was surely a good sign.

Cas didn’t look too sure. “We should let the djinn look at them.”

The djinn were already waiting beside the car when Sam and Cas got out.

“Hey...Daniel, right?”

The djinn shook his head, “ _ Dane-iel _ . The queen?”

“She’s okay,” Sam gestured, “We-”

“ _ Dean! _ What happened?”

Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes. How the hell did Dean manage to ingratiate himself with the ‘monsters’ in such a short space of time? Cas put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and was probably about to explain what had happened but Daneiel all but froze at the sight of him.

“It’s you.”

Sam looked between the two of them but Cas didn’t seem to know what he was talking about.

“Uh yeah...this is Castiel. I guess he’s your king or something?”

Daneiel shook his head, “No, it’s  _ you _ . The one he dreams of.” He was looking at Cas as though he might have stepped from the Heavens...which technically he had.

Sam and Cas exchanged a look but Sam only shrugged. He didn’t know what Daneiel was talking about either. Daneiel didn’t explain, choosing instead to lean into the car so he could look over Dean and Queenie.

“You saved her,” Daneiel sighed. “Thank you.”

It was as much a relief to Sam and Cas as it was to Daneiel. Still, Daneiel didn’t think they should be disconnected though between the three of them they managed to take Queenie and Dean into the house. There was a bedroom on the ground floor that at least saved them the struggle of carrying them up the stairs.

Cas carried Dean as effortlessly as Sam carried Queenie despite the considerable size difference between them. In an amusing twist, the room had two Queens. Sam lay Queenie down and couldn’t help the smile that escaped him when he looked up to see Cas cradling Dean against him. Daneiel was still standing off to the side looking at Castiel as though he couldn’t believe he was there.

“It’s really you. We didn’t think you were real.”

Cas arched an eyebrow and looked over at Sam but Sam still didn’t know what he was talking about.

“He dreams about you,” Daneiel insisted. “Every night. In fact, his dream of losing you was so painful it put most of my brothers in bed. But before that...he was so happy-”

Queenie made a small grunt of pain and shifted in Sam’s arms which cut the conversation short. Daneiel stepped over to her and put a hand to her head but when he looked at Sam he seemed reassured. “She’ll be alright. You don’t have to stay.”

Sam looked down and shifted her so she was comfortably slotted beside him. “I don’t mind.”

Daneiel didn’t argue the point. Sam looked over to where Dean was lying in the next bed as Cas made himself comfortable beside him. He cradled Dean close to him, a small smile playing on his lips, one that was beautiful to behold, so much so that Sam couldn’t help but smile with him even though he didn’t know what it was he was so happy about.

Cas looked up and caught Sam’s eye as he whispered, “he dreams about me.” 


	16. Chapter 16

_ Dean opens his eyes and all is green. _

_ He is nowhere he recognises and he doubts even his imagination has the scope to dream up a place so beautiful and luscious. Strangely, his first thoughts are of Purgatory. The greyness. The way the whole place seemed to bathe in sepia tones as though colour itself had been outlawed along with civility. This place is the opposite. It feels like he’s looking through a camera filter. One called ‘pear’ or ‘summer’ for surely nothing could be this vibrant in reality. _

_ For a long while, Dean is content to lie where he wakes even though it doesn’t feel like he’s been asleep. The grass is soft and dry beneath him, softer than most of the beds he’d ever slept in. The air is fresher than he can ever remember it being and when he breathes in he breathes with it a delicate symphony of flowers hanging lightly on the breeze. _

_ Gradually, he becomes aware of a presence close to him but he feels no fear. He is in an unfamiliar place near an unfamiliar person without his brother or his angel, yet he cannot bring himself to feel anything beyond utter contentment. _

_ Somehow he is not surprised when Queenie speaks from beside him. “Dean Winchester, welcome to Eden.” _

_ It feels inevitable when he eventually sits up, looking around the lush greenery as though he expected it even though he’s never given this place a moment’s consideration. Despite it all, Dean frowns. “We’re not really here, are we?” _

_ Everything feels real. But then things have felt real before. _

_ “Not quite,” Queenie smiles but there is no hint of a threat there and Dean decides that he feels safe. “ **I’m** dreaming. I thought it might help if I showed you.” _

_ “Help with what?” he asks, frowning. But she doesn’t answer. She just rises to her feet and holds her hand out to help him up. _

_ “It’s this way,” she says with an enigmatic smile and Dean huffs. Even in her dreams she can annoy the hell out of him. _

_ The garden is not like anything Dean has ever seen before and he’s been to his fair share of botanical gardens. Granted, that had contributed greatly to the ‘trespassing’ section of his criminal record as he’d mostly visited them to replenish the harder to come by spell ingredients, but it counted. This place seems to be a collection of every flower Dean has ever seen and a multitude he’s never set eyes on. Plants that even he knows grow in alternate seasons are flourishing beside each other and for a moment he cannot help but stare at the carpet of snowdrops, snapdragons and sunflowers. There are flowers he’s never even seen in books before and somehow colours that no longer exist. There is a wildness to it all yet everything seems to have its place. _

_ “The djinn have tended this garden since the Fall,” Queenie tells him as she leads him through trees that are surely taller than it is possible for a tree to grow. “The angels don’t come here anymore. They abandoned it after man was cast out. To them it is a shameful place, somewhere they’d rather forget exists at all. This is where an angel let a serpent in and allowed man to be corrupted. They were supposed to guard their Creator’s most precious creation and instead they allowed it to become tainted. They haven’t been back since except for one...” _

_ They come upon a clearing quite unlike the wilderness they have left. There is little greenery here but there is water. If it can be called that. Dean isn’t entirely sure if it’s water or some kind of crystal. It’s definitely blue, yet so clear it looks like it will cut him if he touches it. Beyond it is another tree; withered and scorched. It might have stood tall once but now it closes in on itself as though shying away from the light. It bears fruit, though they are misshapen. Ugly. Clinging to the decaying branches with what little life they lay claim to. Its roots are gnarled and have broken through the ground turning it to ash. The grass creates a circle around it as though it fears to approach and Dean wonders how such a thing can exist among such lush beauty. _

_ “This is the tree of life,” Queenie says, waving her hand as though it is a marvel to behold. _

_ Dean stares at it for a long time before he turns to her, an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t miss how unimpressed he is and it makes her laugh. _

_ “Well, it looked a lot more impressive before the serpent came.” She leads him across the crystal stream towards it. “This is the tree that sustained your ancestors within the garden. When man fell, the tree began to wither. After the angels left, those of us who did not wish to be counted among the monsters retreated here to preserve some measure of paradise. This is the one tree we cannot tend and the one tree Castiel looked for when he came here.” _

_ Dean looks up at the tree and now that he is closer, he recognises the fruit. He remembers Cas showing it to him even though Dean was still riding the high from meeting his favourite animated dog.  _

_ “By the time Castiel reached the tree he’d already killed more than half of my clan. We never meant to attack him, but he came with his blade and we assumed the angels were trying to retake the garden.” _

_ Dean reaches out and touches the tree only to find it’s as cold as ice. He pulls his hand back harshly, almost yelping at the touch. Queenie leans against it, seemingly unfazed by the temperature. _

_ “You don’t know what it means for an angel to come here,” Queenie says with a sweeping gesture to the perfection around them. “This was the very beginning of their Creator’s work in this world and they ruined it. It fell on their watch. Because of their failings, Hell came into being...” _

_ She carries on talking about the great shame of the angels but Dean remembers something else. He remembers Sam tied to a chair with silver spokes drilling into his mind as they tried to expel the one who called himself Ezekiel. He remembers the angel using Sam’s voice to give his true name and he remembers Cas’ anger. _

_ He remembers Cas’ voice shaking as he explained who Gadreel was. He can still hear the rage building before Cas could take it no longer and grabbed him, screaming that he had been weak, that it had been his fault creation had been ruined. _

_ Queenie’s hand is cold where it touches Dean’s arm, bringing him back to the moment. But her smile is soft. “I don’t think any of us will ever know what it cost Castiel to come here.” She moves to a spot in front of the tree, looking down on it as though it could reveal her memories to her. “We realised that he had not come for Eden and we started talking. He said he had only come for the fruit and I asked him why. He wouldn’t say. He just said he needed it, but I wondered what force in creation could inspire an angel to enter the Garden. Imagine my surprise when I looked into his heart and found you.” _

_ Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes, caught somewhere between the warmth of knowing Cas held him in his heart and the bitter cold of Queenie’s surprise. What business does Dean have in the heart and mind of an angel? But Queenie doesn’t let him move away. _

_ “A long time ago, the djinn who chose not to be monsters granted wishes. I have not granted a wish since creation was young, but then Castiel came in all his determined fury. Into the Garden, Castiel marched, willing to kill every one of us because  _ **_you_ ** _ needed the fruit. I have never known an angel to have a wish before, let alone one so simple it should not have been unattainable. He impressed me and I decided I would grant his wish.” _

_ Dean appreciates that she is trying to show him something important. Part of him can even admit that it’s because of her that he even admitted his feelings for Cas. And yet, he really doesn’t care to hear her life story. “So you gave him the fruit?” Dean offers, almost wearily even though he knows he sleeps. _

_ Queenie looks at him as though she cannot believe such idiocy exists but then she has already told him, extensively, how moronic she considers him. _

_ “His wish wasn’t for the fruit,” she sighs, rubbing her head with her hand as though to stave off a headache she’s incapable of having. “It was for  _ **_you_ ** _ , Dean. Every atom of Castiel’s being yearned for  _ **_you_ ** _. Angels don’t come to the Garden. Angels don’t feel, let alone love. Yet here was an angel in the garden out of love for a human. Angels don’t have souls but you should know that when I looked into Castiel it was you that I saw. How could I not grant that wish?” _

_ There is a part of Dean that is frozen. She had told him, of course, in the rain with thunder overhead that was likely more from her fury than storm patterns. But she hadn’t told him this. But there is another part, the part that says, ‘who’s askin’ as an angel slams him against the nearest hard surface, the part that knows when to stop but doesn’t anyway. It’s that part that bites out, “...so you married him.” _

_ She has done remarkable work suppressing her temper in the past. If Dean has irritated her, she hasn’t shown it even when he has specifically gone out of his way to do so. Maybe it is because they are on her turf that Queenie doesn’t bother to hide it now. She rolls her eyes and before he realises the blow is coming, cuffs him around the back of his head. He knows she has the strength to send him reeling. He has seen her take down several djinn; she could break his neck with a slap if she wanted to. _

_ But she hadn’t. _

_ “You are infuriating, Dean Winchester! Yes! I married him! I married him because I knew it would mean nothing to us and something to you. I married him because if I’d cast a spell or worked my usual magic then when you discovered it you’d have broken the whole thing off and convinced yourself Castiel had never loved you-” _

_ Dean flinches from how well she apparently knew him just from one glimpse into Castiel’s heart. _

_ “- I had assumed that he would return to you, announce his marriage and the two of you would realise that you couldn’t stand the thought of him belonging to another. I didn’t expect to be here spelling it out for you some time later!” _

_ Dean’s mouth opens and closes on words he cannot express several times before he can bring himself to speak. “That’s a helluva lot of trouble to go to.” _

_ But Queenie only shrugs. “Not really. As I said, the marriage meant nothing to either of us and now that you have finally, finally told Castiel how you feel we can dissolve the union and the two of you can have what you’ve been denying yourselves for no good reason.” _

_ “And you can get back to porking my brother,” Dean says with a grin. He feels lighter, lighter than he’s felt in...well...ever. He doesn’t want her to dwell on Castiel anymore. He isn’t her concern. He is Dean’s. _

_ He has always been Dean’s. _

_ Besides, it’s worth it to see her blush. The queen of the djinn standing in the Garden of Eden, blushing over Sam Winchester. _

_ “I like your brother,” she says quietly. “It has been some time since I met a human. Not since the time of Cain. And your brother is interesting. And interested. He asks a lot of questions.” _

_ “He kissed you too,” Dean points out but to that she only scoffs. _

_ “I’m well versed in the one-night exploits of the hunter’s lifestyle,” Queenie says with another roll of her eyes. _

_ Dean laughs but stops when he realises she’s serious. “Wait...no...I mean sure I’ve been around the block a few times but...not Sam!” _

_ This time she raises an eyebrow and Dean nudges her in the ribs with his elbow. “Seriously, Sam doesn’t hit ‘em and quit ‘em. He must really like you.” _

_ “Yes, I’m sure the hunter cannot wait to bed a monster.” _

_ Dean’s breath catches behind his teeth. “Uh...I mean...you wouldn’t be the first.” _

_ She catches his eye and he shrugs. He can’t hate her anymore. Not when she doesn’t hold Castiel’s heart. Not when he can still feel Cas’ hand in his own and see the light in his eyes when Dean had said he loved him. Queenie laughs but she seems nervous. Their situations have reversed in the most ridiculous of ways and Dean can’t help but laugh too. _

_ “We should wake up,” she says after a little while. “Castiel hasn’t left your side since they got us home and...” she flushes and looks away, “...your brother has been quite worried about me.” _

_ “Cas is there?” Dean asks though he realises that he isn’t surprised in the slightest. _

_ He has no intention of leaving Cas’ side again. _

_ “Thank you, Dean,” she smiles. “I should be able to recover the rest of the way on my own, I don’t want to put your life in jeopardy. You’ve done enough and I’m grateful. I’m sorry I couldn’t show you more of the Garden.”  _

_ Dean doesn’t mind. If anything he just wants to be with Cas. What is Eden to that?  _

_ Queenie touches his face in the same way she had to bring them here and the greenery melts around them. _

_ Dean opens his eyes and all is blue. _


	17. Chapter 17

When Dean woke for the second time, he found himself back in his familiar bed with a vague memory of Cas’ arm braced across his shoulders, helping him to the room he’d claimed as his own.

“You’re awake,” Cas said from somewhere beside him and even though Dean hadn’t quite come back to himself yet, he could feel himself smiling. Still, he took a minute to figure out if he was alright. His head ached but not badly, he could shake it off easily enough. He closed his eyes even though all he wanted to do was look at Cas but Cas would be the first person to insist Dean check himself over.

He took a breath and let it settle in his chest. Nothing hurt. Things ached but no more or less than they usually did after a particularly physical hunt. Aside from the lingering headache that might have been the result of being hooked up to Queenie, might have been the few knocks he’d taken from the djinn...or any combination of the two, he was okay.

Dean opened his eyes and Cas was beside him as he knew he would be.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, his voice as soft as his smile.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean rasped as he immediately reached for him. He thought better of it pretty soon after but his hand was already moving. Before he could pull it back, Cas slipped onto the edge of the bed and took Dean’s hand in his own.

Cas’ hand was warm and his fingers linked with Dean’s but he didn’t say anything. For a moment he just smiled. So Dean smiled back. When Cas broke the touch it was to reach for a glass of water which Dean would have refused had Cas not passed it to him with such insistence.

“Breakfast?” Cas offered. He gestured to a side table with a small smile. “One of the djinn...Daniel I think he said, thought you might be hungry. I tried to tell him you’d prefer bacon but he rather insisted on fruit.”

“Daneiel,” Dean corrected automatically. He couldn’t help but be touched at Daneiel’s concern. “And I’m not eating that.”

Cas didn’t look surprised. “Hm. He said it would help with your head but I told him you’d sooner a bottle of whiskey.”

Dean smirked but reached for the fruit. “Alright then, pass me one of those apples.”

“Seriously?”

“What?” Dean scoffed. “I’ve just been dosed up on djinn poison. If Daneiel says it’ll help you can throw me some of those grapes while you’re at it.”

Cas looked a little amused but he passed the fruit over anyway.

There was a brief moment of silence broken only by the crunch of Dean’s first bite of the apple. Cas’ eyes never left Dean though. Dean could feel the blue of them tracking his every movement.

They’d need to talk. They’d need to talk about everything.

But...maybe not right now.

“Is Queenie okay?” Dean asked.

Somehow Cas’ smile grew even softer. “She’s fine thanks to you. She and Sam have been getting better...acquainted.”

“I bet,” Dean chuckled but they quickly fell quiet again.

It wasn’t awkward though but the air between them seemed heavy with expectation. Dean finished the apple in silence, offered Cas some grapes in silence, and threw the core into the bin in silence.

When he said it, it sounded like the words came out in the rush of a single breath but he needed to say it. He couldn’t let Cas think-

“I meant it,” Dean said, almost suddenly. Cas’ eyes didn’t waver from his. “What I said...in the barn...I love you.”

Cas’ smile was almost as blinding as his grace, at once absolving Dean for every sin he’d ever committed and several he hadn’t.

“Queenie said-” Dean started but Cas cut him off.

“I know what she said. Sam told me. But I think it’s time you hear it from me. I love you, Dean. Fathomlessly. Endlessly. I have loved you since I pulled you from Hell and I will love you long after Hell has faded from the world. I love you.” 

Dean couldn’t find it within himself to be embarrassed. Cas’ words washed over him and settled into his very being. The tiny spark that Dean had cherished in his heart for so long had become a pleasant glow that spread through every part of him.

Cas loved him.

Cas loved him the way that Dean loved Cas.

“I can’t match that,” he snorted but there wasn’t much feeling behind it. It didn’t seem to matter that he couldn’t meet Cas’ poetry. Dean had said what he’d never thought he’d say and Cas hadn’t run away. Dean wanted to kiss him. Could he kiss him? Did Cas want to kiss  _ him? _ Did Cas _ want _ Dean to kiss him?

“So uh...are we doing this?” Dean asked as though Cas’ beautific smile wasn’t answer enough.

“Yes, Dean. I would very much like to do this.”

Dean still didn’t move but he couldn’t help but smirk. “Heh...so, you’re my boyfriend now?”

Cas’ fingers were soft against Dean’s cheek. It was barely a brush of a touch as though he were afraid that Dean might disappear from in front of him.

Stranger things had happened.

“If that’s what you’d like to call me,” Cas shrugged. “Labels are meaningless. I am and always have been yours.”

Dean hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew what he wanted to do and most of it involved kissing Cas to within an inch of his life but still he paused. He didn’t want to but...if they were going to do this, he was gonna have to get used to talking.

Communication and all that.

“I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” Dean said, bluntly. “I don’t want to but...you know I will.”

He waited for Cas to pull back in agreement, to realise he was making a mistake but he didn’t. His eyes dropped for a moment though and with it went Dean’s stomach.

Here it comes.

“I’m scared too,” Cas whispered.

“You are?” Dean hadn’t meant to sound so hopeful.

“I’m afraid I’ll embroil myself in a war of cosmic consequences and hurt you again.”

“I don’t want to push you away and lose what we already have,” Dean sighed.

This time it was Cas who smirked. “We’re going to have to talk about this, aren’t we?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

Cas’ fingers were still on Dean’s cheek and for a moment it looked like he might speak. But before he could, the soft quietness that existed between them was broken by what sounded like a soft moan. One that had definitely not come from either Dean or Cas. There was a soft feminine gasp and they both froze.

And heard it again.

Dean arched an eyebrow. “The hell…?”

There was another moan except this one was quite obviously less feminine and more... _ Sam? _

“We should talk somewhere else,” Dean said quickly.

Cas was already helping Dean to his feet. “Definitely.”

Another cry from Sam. One that sounded suspiciously like,  _ ‘yes!’ _ and Dean was practically running from the room.

The pool seemed like an obvious enough escape. It wasn’t inside the house for a start. Where Sam was... _ yeah _ …. Outside was good.

Dean hadn’t spent much time at the side of the pool, but then he hadn’t spent much time in the house that wasn’t devoted to finding Cas.

“This is nice,” Cas said with rare appreciation for their surroundings.

Dean looked around. He wasn’t wrong – it was nice. The pool looked clear and inviting under the sun and Dean wasn’t much for gardens but even he noticed how the various plants and flowers made the place look like a sanctuary you wouldn’t expect to find in such urban surroundings. Cas took a moment to look at the flowers and Dean took a moment to just watch him.

Sam had once said that it was easy to forget that Cas wasn’t human but Dean had never thought so. Cas walked around the garden with his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides because he hadn’t thought of what to do with them. He watched everything; the bees, the sway of the petals, the tiny insects that Dean couldn’t even see from where he was standing, with his head cocked and a small smile playing on his lips. Humans never looked at things like that. Humans never saw the wonder in things that Cas did.

Cas obviously felt Dean’s eyes on him and looked back. His smile grew wider even though he’d known Dean was there.

Dean could appreciate that the flowers were pretty but he had no interest in them. Not like the pool. Now that Cas was safe, he could admit that he’d been eyeing the pool since he and Sam had arrived at Casa del Djinn. He shrugged off his flannel and let it fall onto the patio. Next went his shirt, followed by his jeans and socks until Dean was down to just his boxer shorts. He would have preferred going totally nude but that might be pushing things too far too fast. They had come out here to talk, after all.

Boxers would do.

He felt Cas’ eyes on him and couldn’t help but grin. “You like what you see there, Cas?” Dean called striking his best Baywatch pose.

“I’ve always liked what I’ve seen,” Cas said in the way that he did when he was being utterly upfront about something but didn’t really know it. “But if you’re my ‘boyfriend’,” he added with the air quotes for emphasis, “then I assume I’m allowed to look instead of pretending I’m not.”

Dean’s throat went dry very quickly but he knew he was going to have to get used to this. Not just Cas looking but Cas being open about looking. Cas being open about liking him.

_ Oh God Cas liked him _ .

Without checking to see if the water was alright, Dean just dropped into pool. He heard himself laugh before he realised that he’d made the sound but it wasn’t as though life as a hunter was filled with moments of fun. They had to be snatched where they could. And the water was perfect. It was cool without being cold and took the edge off the heat of the sun.

Dean dunked under the surface and pushed himself through the water effortlessly. When he came back up for air, he threw his head back _a la_ The Little Mermaid even though he had considerably less hair. He imagined he looked cool regardless. He turned to grin at Cas and invite him only for his mouth to go dry when he saw that Cas had already stripped down to his underwear and seriously, he wore white shorts under his suit? Seriously?

Dean’s eyes tracked every movement Cas made, every rivulet that trailed from his hair across his face, every drop of water that gathered across his torso. He hadn’t known Cas could swim though Dean wasn’t sure why that surprised him. Cas seemed to stride through the water as though it posed no greater resistance to him than air. When he took his feet from the bottom and used the momentum to glide across the surface towards Dean, Dean thought he looked like he was flying.

Cas stopped just before he reached Dean and placed his feet firmly on the ground, standing up tall in the water and deliberately spraying Dean with every droplet he could. He chuckled. It was a sound Dean so rarely heard as casually as Cas dropped it. In that moment it was the most beautiful sound Dean had ever heard. He cupped Cas’ face, still trying to not be too surprised when he didn’t draw away.

Dean had been dreaming of their first kiss and the million subsequent kisses for some time but nothing could compare to the actual moment when their lips met for the first time. Cas’ fingers threaded into Dean’s hair and held him there as they explored each other with tentative touches and soft presses. Cas was tender, gentle and when they broke apart he rested his forehead against Dean’s in a gesture that was somehow more intimate than the kiss they had just shared.

Any and all doubts Dean had had in the back of his mind about how Cas might feel about him were laid to rest from that one kiss. He hadn’t wanted to doubt it in the first place and it wasn’t anything to do with Cas that he did. But now, resting their heads together, breathing each other in as the water lapped pleasantly around them, Dean knew that he was loved.

“I’ve wanted to do that since you blew off the roof of that barn,” Dean huffed, eventually.

He felt rather than saw Cas arch an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well...maybe not at the time. But, afterwards when I wasn’t trying to kill you and could appreciate how hot you were.”

“You think I’m attractive,” Cas smiled as though the thought was a novelty. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time too. I knew when I pulled you from Hell you were special though I had no idea then how much of an understatement that would become.”

Cas’ fingers trailed across Dean’s cheek and Dean splayed his hands across Cas’ back. With no hint of hesitation, Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, allowing the water to take his weight and together they rested in the pool, drifting together. Looking into each other’s eyes and despite the compromising position...talking.

“I think I  _ knew _ when I saw you with Anna,” Cas said, quietly. “I was jealous. I’d never experienced jealousy before. I enjoyed the time we got to spend together even though much of it wasn’t on the terms either of us would have liked but when I saw her enjoying your body the way I enjoyed your mind...”

Dean snorted, he couldn’t help it. “You jealous ‘coz I slept with your sister?”

Cas rolled his eyes and smacked Dean painlessly on the shoulder. “Yes,” he admitted. “But...you didn’t love her. You love me.”

He said it with wonder. As though he were still tasting the words on his lips and savouring them. Dean couldn’t blame him.

“I remember when you thought you had that date, with that chick...what was her name...Nelly...Norma... _ Nora _ ? Anyway, I watched you pick that flower outside her house and all I could think about was how you were the most wonderful being on the planet and she damn well better appreciate that.”

They exchanged soft confessions, softer kisses and all the while they never let each other move more than a breath away.

“ _ When I saw your determination in saying no to Michael you changed everything I thought I knew about life.” _

“ _ I saw us in the future and I didn’t want that future to happen. I mean, I didn’t want Sam to say yes to Lucifer but I didn’t want us to get to that point where I still couldn’t admit what you meant to me.” _

“ _ Even before I loved you I thought your soul was beautiful. When you were a demon I was so afraid I would never see your soul shine as brightly as it once had.” _

“ _ I saw you when I was a demon. The real you I mean. When I say I love you, I mean all of you, Cas. The Cas that I pray to.” _

“ _ I always hear your prayers. I heard them in Purgatory and I wanted more than anything to answer them.” _

“ _ I did things in Purgatory I never thought I’d be capable of doing because nothing mattered except finding you. Even if we hadn’t have gotten out, I would have been okay if I was with you.” _

“ _ I’m still sorry for the hurt I put you through when I didn’t leave. But I couldn’t. When the angels pulled me out, Naomi knew that I was still loyal to you. Angels don’t dream, Dean, but I still have nightmares where I see you dead before me at my hand. But I couldn’t...not when it came to it...” _

“ _ I  _ do _ dream and I  _ do _ have nightmares where I see you dead. I see you in the chair after April stabbed you, I see the water you didn’t come out of...I see your wings on the ground- _ ”

Cas’ lips were firm against Dean’s but this time it was not a soft kiss. This was ferocious, determined and maybe a little wet which Dean would blame entirely on the pool because he hadn’t even noticed his own tears. His lips parted on a gasp and Cas swallowed it down, devouring Dean’s mouth with his own.

The time for talking was apparently over and Dean was okay with that. He rolled his hips against Cas’ legs still wrapped around his waist and Cas pulled back with a hiss. His hair was damp from the water but had mostly dried in the sun, mussed from where Dean’s fingers had tangled in it, his lips were swollen, and he looked at Dean with such obvious lust Dean thought he might come there and then on the spot.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas whispered, kissing his way across Dean’s jawline until he could nip at his ear. “I swear I’ll never leave you. There is nothing you could do to push me away, not after this. I won’t let you and I know you won’t let me.”

Dean’s lips twitched. He wasn’t entirely sure that was true. He wasn’t sure he could be worthy of Cas, that he wouldn’t mess it all up eventually. But, it was hard to maintain such doubts when Cas was kissing him so earnestly. And when Dean was kissing him back, drawing Cas’ lip between his teeth so he could bite it.

Maybe he would fuck it up. Hell, maybe Cas would fuck it up. But now that Dean knew what Cas’ tongue tasted like against his own, he knew that Cas hissed more than he whimpered and he knew that Cas loved him as wholly as Dean loved him...maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to ruin it.

Dean would fight for this. Cas would fight for this.

Maybe...it wasn’t so fragile.

And speaking of fragile, Cas finally unwound his legs from Dean’s waist, pushing him against the edge of the pool so he could return to his important work in exploring every inch of Dean’s skin.

At least until Sam cleared his throat from the patio and called out to them. “I’m not sure that’s good for the pool water, guys.”

The growl of frustration that tore itself from Cas’ throat was enough to remind them all that he was not of this world. He glared at Sam as though he would smite him for the interruption, his arms splayed possessively across Dean’s chest.

Dean made a mental note to add that to his list of kinks because... _ yeah _ …

_...Wow... _

“Seriously, Sam?” Dean snapped. “We didn’t bother you while you were sampling the fruits of Eden!”

Even Cas grimaced at that, the mood thoroughly ruined but it was worth it for the way Sam winced in disgust. “Gross, Dean. Real gross.”

Dean shrugged. He thought it had been damn funny and it served his stupid brother right for interrupting them with his stupid face.

“What the hell are you even doing here?”

Sam gestured to their surroundings and oh...it wasn’t all that light out anymore. In fact, someone (probably not Sam because they’d done it without bothering Dean and Cas) had turned the patio lights on for them to keep the place illuminated without them noticing.

“Queenie’s ordering pizza,” Sam muttered.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Worked up an appetite, did she?”

Sam flushed bright red and this was never going to get old. “Dean...no...for us. She’s ordering pizza for us. I was just letting you know. You’ve been out here for hours, guys. You’re gonna get cold or something.” He practically fled back into the house, clearly deciding that he’d done his bit and if Dean and Cas wanted to spend the night in the quickly cooling water then that was their business.

“We should go in,” Cas sighed, reluctantly. “He’s right. You do need food and we need to get you dry.”

It wasn’t that Dean didn’t agree. He just...wanted a few more minutes with Cas.

“I’ll be okay,” he murmured, nuzzling his face against the crook of Cas’ neck, “I’ve got an angel watching over me.”

He had felt a weight lifted for speaking the words that he’d bottled up for so long. For actually expressing himself and telling Cas what he meant to him. Communication wasn’t so bad after all. But more than that, it was the look on Cas’ face when Dean called him his angel, the sheer wonder, awe and pure delight as he leaned in to kiss him again that told him they really were going to be alright. 


	18. Chapter 18

Queenie looked ever so pleased with herself that she’d ordered a pizza over a phone. She handed Sam’s phone back to him with almost as much excitement as she’d taken it. He couldn’t help but smile at her; she really did get excited over the most mundane of things.

“They said they’d be here within half an hour,” she announced. “Do humans always hire others to cook for them?”

Sam scoffed. “What? No! Not all the time anyway.”

“I haven’t seen you or your brother cook since we met you,” she pointed out.

“We were kinda busy,” Sam protested. “Remember, the whole trying to get Cas back? I can cook for myself.”

She was teasing him and the realisation made him laugh. He pulled her into his arms and she went easily, parting her lips as soon as they touched his.

They broke apart when Dean cleared his throat loudly from behind them. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother who looked way too pleased with himself but then this was no doubt payback for what Sam had interrupted in the pool. He hadn’t meant to, he genuinely hadn’t. They  _ had _ been out there for most of the day and Dean needed to eat. He’d been mostly unconscious for over twenty-four hours. Besides, Sam was hungry too.

It had been an...exhausting day.

Well...no...actually it had been a wonderful, amazing, thrilling day. But it had left Sam exhausted in the best possible way. He hadn’t meant to have sex with his best friend’s recently divorced ex-wife (assuming they’d actually divorced...assuming they were ever  _ married _ in the first place) but one thing had led to another. And another.

And another.

It had been a good day.

“Where’s the pizza?” Dean asked, still smug that he’d caught them, even though they’d hardly been sneaking around. 

“It hasn’t arrived,” Queenie replied. “It’ll be here within half an hour though,” she added, thoroughly pleased with herself.

Dean looked as though he were trying not to smile at her. “Alright, who’s paying?” 

It was clear he’d been trying to catch her out but she’d been buying their food for a few days now so instead she just gestured to a drawer in one of the decorative tables near the door. “There’s money in the drawer.” 

Dean opened the drawer and froze right before he started choking on air. For a moment, Sam worried that he was having another spontaneous heart attack. At least until he turned around and caught Sam’s eye. 

“Dude,” Dean rasped, pointing at the drawer. 

Sam looked at Queenie but she didn’t seem to have any idea as to what Dean’s issue was. Sam stepped over to him and glanced into the drawer. 

And started choking on air. 

“What the hell?!” he demanded of Queenie who looked entirely nonplussed that there was a drawer full of fifty and hundred dollar bills neatly stacked into piles. “Did you guys rob a bank?!” 

Sam’s eyes were on Queenie but he still managed to slap Dean’s hand away from slipping into the drawer when he thought no one was looking. 

“I already told you, we sold a vase.” She shrugged and looked into the drawer. “Why? Is that a lot?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said a little breathlessly. “Yeah...that’s a lot.” 

“Oh. Well...you’re welcome to use it to pay for the pizza.” 

Again Sam slapped Dean’s hand away.

“ _What?_ ” Dean snapped. “It’s not like they need the money. They won’t even miss it.” 

They were saved by the rather grandiose echo of the doorbell and the confused look on the pizza guy’s face, as though he were expecting this all to be a prank. He seemed almost relieved when Dean took the pizzas and thrilled when Sam handed him a couple of bills and told him to keep the change. The guy looked at the money in his hand and back at Sam but Sam only waved him off, trying not to laugh when the guy practically jumped for joy on his way back to his car. 

When he closed the door, he was surprised to find himself looking at an empty hallway. He found Dean and Cas sitting in front of the television screen that took up an entire wall, one pizza box already open on Cas’ lap and somehow already down a slice. One of Dean’s hands was entwined with Cas’ and with the other he shoved the remaining box towards Sam and managed to say something that was probably, ‘ _ this is yours’ _ or some other variation on ‘ _ I’m not eating this veggie crap’ _ . It was hard to tell from the pizza he must have eaten whole still in the process of being chewed. 

“What’re we watching?” Sam asked, heading for the other seat but Dean was already making noises that sounded like he wanted him to stop. 

He swallowed at last. “No no, Cas and I are watching. If you wanna watch something with your girlfriend I’ve seen at least three screens in this place almost as big as this.”

“Dean-” Cas started but Sam was already laughing. 

“It’s alright, Cas, you guys have fun with your chick flick.” 

He took his pizza, still laughing simply because he was so happy that the two of them had finally done something about their “profound bond” or whatever the hell it was. 

Queenie was outside with many of the other djinn. They’d apparently been waiting for Dean and Castiel to leave the pool so they could all jump in while Queenie watched from the patio. It was strange to see them all having fun in such a human way but apparently splashing each other with water was universally a good time. 

She seemed surprised to see Sam there. “Are you not accompanying your brother on his date night?” 

“What?” Sam asked, momentarily frozen in place. 

“Castiel told me that he and Dean were going to take the pizza and have a date night. I assumed that you would be a part of that.” 

“No,” Sam said, emphatically. “No. No no no.  _ No _ . No, I’m not going to be a part of their date nights, not now or ever. I was wondering if you wanted to eat with me?” 

She raised an eyebrow but Sam could tell she was genuine in her confusion. “Why? We can’t fornicate while you’re eating, however flexible you have proven yourself to be.” 

“No!” Sam all but cried. He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried again. “I thought we could spend some time together. We could talk or watch a movie or something?” 

“Oh.” The idea seemed to appeal to her and she said something to the djinn nearest to her before turning back to the house with Sam. She followed him up to his room, a place she had come to know very well by now, past Dean and Cas who were by now totally ignoring the film in favour of staring at each other and whispering together between bites of pizza. 

True to form Dean called out, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” 

Sam rolled his eyes but Queenie frowned. “It’s too late for that, I’ve already expressed my fondness for your brother.” 

Dean flushed and mumbled something that sounded like, “Shut up.” 

Queenie was quiet on the way up to Sam’s room. There was a table with two comfy chairs near the window that looked down onto the pool where the djinn were swimming so Sam put the pizza on the table and gestured for Queenie to join him. She seemed a little hesitant. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, offering her a slice of pizza which she refused. She didn’t need to eat, of course, but she’d been interested in the concept at least. Now she seemed unsure. 

She thought for a moment. “What are we doing?” 

“What do you mean?” Sam frowned. “Do...you not want to spend some time together?”

“No,” she said quickly, “I mean I do but...why do you want to?” 

For a moment Sam just stared at her. They had spent the day together tangled up in the bed right behind them. Had he missed something? He didn’t know what to say for a while so Queenie jumped in, raising her hands in defeat.

“I didn’t think we’d talk again after what we did.” 

There was something Sam was missing. He’d expressed his interest, she’d returned the interest, they’d talked at length and done so much more but now… something clicked in his mind. “Oh. Wait...is that how djinn relationships work? As a brief, casual thing?”

Now Queenie looked as though she’d missed something. “What? No...I just...” She folded her arms as she sat back into the chair. “I was curious about humans and you were curious about djinn. We liked each other enough for you to show me how humans show affection but isn’t that it? Surely your curiosity is satisfied?” 

“Wait...I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me,” Sam said, pushing the pizza aside so that he could lean across the table towards her even if she didn’t move to meet him. “I didn’t...none of what we did I did because I was curious about djinn. It was because I liked you. I did from the start it’s why I was always looking to spend time with you. I mean I am curious and I want to learn everything about you but it’s not because I want to take notes it’s because I want to know more about you.”

“Oh...” Queenie breathed, looking no less confused for his admission. “It didn’t occur to me your brother was telling the truth. He told me that you weren’t one for flings and that your interest in me was genuine. I assumed he was playing a joke on me on some level.” 

Sam wasn’t sure what Dean had said or when he’d said and if he was honest, he didn’t entirely want to know. “Humans have this thing called dating, right? It’s traditional, for when two people want to get to know each other, to spend time together, to do all the things we’ve done together. Sometimes it becomes a long-term commitment and sometimes it’s just a fling but...I was thinking that’s what we could do?” 

He’d put the offer out and he tried to keep his smile light, as though his stomach hadn’t already started to turn at the thought of her deciding this had all just been an educational interspecies exchange. He’d thought she liked him too. Their first kiss alone had suggested a little more than just curiosity. 

“Like...what your brother and Castiel are doing?” Queenie asked slowly.

Sam scoffed. “I don’t think there’s anything traditional about what Dean and Cas are doing. But I thought it’s something we could do...I mean...if you were interested in me beyond being human.” 

Queenie’s eyes widened as though he’d said something surprising. “Sam! You’re very clever, attractive and you’ve been kind to me since we met. Of course, I’m interested. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sam asked, the pizza quite forgotten even though he really had been hungry before they’d started talking. 

“I’m a monster. What would a clever, attractive and kind hunter want to do with a monster?” 

It was clear she didn’t see it as something to be sad about. She wasn’t admitting it the way a human might admit a flaw. She didn’t cower behind it. It was simply a statement of fact. 

She was a monster. 

“Not to me you’re not,” Sam sighed. He left his chair and knelt in front of her, unfolding her arms so he could hold her hand. “If there’s one thing this life has taught me it’s that ‘monster’ doesn’t really mean anything. Not all the time. I’ve done some pretty horrific things.” 

Queenie didn’t look surprised. In fact she gave a small huff. “Yes, the demon blood.” But actually, Sam was kind of glad that she already knew about it so that he wouldn’t have to go into it right then. 

“Yeah well...I was sort of psychic for a while. Then there was the time I didn’t have a soul and I’ve...” he took a ragged breath, “I’ve shared a space with the devil more times than I’d like, so you know...monster is kind of a relative term. Besides...” he paused as the thought struck him, “...even if you meant monster in a literal sense well...you wouldn’t be the first.” Sam grinned at her and she laughed when she realised what he was saying. 

“What would your brother say?” she chuckled, softly. 

“My brother has been in love with an angel for longer than he knows. I don’t think he gets a say in any of this.” 

“Hm,” Queenie smiled. “I would like to date you, Sam Winchester, though I’m not entirely sure if you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Sam felt his eyebrow arch without intention. “No? It seemed like we were pretty thorough earlier.”

She smiled at him, a wicked, feral thing that made her look like the monster she had claimed to be. “I was interested in how humans mate,” she sounded almost innocent. “I was holding back. I am a djinn after all.” Her eyes seemed to glow with the intensity behind them even though he’d seen them glowing and knew that this wasn’t it. She dropped her lips to Sam’s ear and whispered, “We do feed off humans.” 

Sam could feel his blood thrumming in his veins as though it were answering her invitation. He could blame the flush in his cheeks on that too but he knew that’s not where it came from. He swallowed around the dryness in his throat and held her gaze. 

“You don’t have to,” he said pointedly, feeling very small in front of her. "Hold back, I mean."

She held his gaze still. She didn’t even blink. “If I didn’t, I could hurt you.” 

Sam straightened on his knees. Even like this he dwarfed her but he didn’t feel it. She was so tiny by comparison but she pinned him with her eyes alone and he realised from that alone that she’d been telling the truth. She had been holding back. 

He let go of her hand so he could cup Queenie’s face under her headscarf and pressed their lips together just for a moment. 

He realised he could ask. With her he could ask. 

He kissed her again just so that he could breathe his answer against her lips. 

“Hurt me.” 

For the briefest of seconds, Sam saw a flash of something in her eyes. Something that should have scared him but thrilled him instead and then it was gone. Lost as she surged forward, rising to her feet and taking him with her in a single motion. The same motion that slammed his back against the table which creaked its protest beneath them and sent the forgotten pizza crashing to the floor. 

Her lips were on his but she wasn’t kissing him. Plundering would have been a better word. She held him down with one hand to his chest that felt like it should have given way but it was firm against him, unyielding as she devoured his lips. Sam’s lips didn’t so much part for her as she forced them to yield, sucking his tongue into her mouth without even trying to hide her teeth. There was no place for softness now and Sam was burning from the inside out. 

Queenie’s other hand snaked roughly into his hair and she pulled at it harshly, forcing his head aside so she could take her lips to his neck. She’d discovered earlier in the day that there was a spot on his neck below his ear that he’d enjoyed her kissing and now she took her teeth to it. 

He enjoyed that too. 

Sam had told her not to hold back and she really didn’t. She pinned him against the table with ease, holding him there with her hips alone as she ground against him. Her hand still gripped against his scalp, pulling at his hair roughly as she peppered him with kisses forceful enough to bruise. 

The sound of his moans and her breathy sighs were disturbed only by the distinct rip of his shirt as she tore it from him, casting it aside without a care for where it landed. 

Sam had never been so hard. 

He tried to cant his hips, desperately seeking friction, pressure, anything but she had him trapped and for all her petite size he could not move her. They moved when _she_ was ready and not before. Without warning, she tired of the table and pulled him up from it with one hand on his shoulder. Sam found himself shoved forcefully against the nearest wall with enough force that one of the generic landscapes trembled and fell from its hook. Not that Sam had a moment to notice it. Not with Queenie’s fingers biting into his hips as she kissed and nipped her way across his chest. 

There had been several points during the day that Sam had thought he’d caused her to lose control. That she had come apart beneath him, on top of him, beside him with quiet whimpers and glowing eyes and he prided himself on being able to snap her restraint. 

He had snapped nothing. 

Even now as she shredded his pants where he stood and snapped aside his underwear as though they were no more durable than gossamer on the wind, she was still in complete control of herself. Her lips closed around him and she drew him roughly into her mouth, her fingers still bruising his hips, her teeth grazing the head of him lightly. So lightly. 

Part of Sam remembered to breathe and he gasped down ragged, sharp breaths as he made sounds he’d never heard himself make before. Her focus shifted as Queenie swallowed around him, running her tongue flat against him in ways that were surely...well...not human. Without specifically meaning to because that implied thought and the only thought in Sam’s mind was a repeated,  _ ‘yes. God. Fuck, yes! _ ’ He moved his hand to her face, unwinding the scarf there so he could look into her eyes. Her eyes seemed to glimmer in the darkness as she locked her gaze on him but that was enough for her to realise she’d gotten distracted and she slammed Sam’s hips against the wall. The resulting crack could have been from the structure or his back but all he felt was the burn of pleasure as the blow struck him. 

She threw him onto the bed. There was no warning, she simply pulled off him as his own fingers had latched onto her shoulders with such force he might have worried about hurting her. Then he found himself on his back against the mattress and bathed in only what moonlight streamed in through the window she stripped off her shirt and slipped from her jeans. They fell from her as though she were simply stepping out of them and Sam’s breath caught somewhere in his chest. 

She was beautiful. 

He reached for her and Queenie went willingly, allowing him to pull her into his lap and with an imperceptible shift of her hips, she took him inside her, sinking to the hilt without pausing for breath. 

Sam stole her moans from her lips and she allowed him to sit up with her, bringing their chests flush against each other as she wrapped her legs around him, grinding her hips in slow, torturous circles. 

A long groan escaped him when she took his jaw in two fingers and all but snapped it aside so she could run her fingers over that spot on his neck again. But this time, he felt the sting of her nails and distantly he wondered how he’d not noticed how sharp they could be. His jaw protested where she held it but Sam didn’t try to push against it, except for when he wanted the thrill of knowing he couldn’t move her anyway. 

He thrust into her harshly and she let him but her focus was on his neck. He could feel it. Warm and wet. She had cut him. Not badly; it didn’t hurt enough for that but enough that he could feel it drip onto her shoulder. Queenie leaned in releasing his jaw in favour of pulling at his hair again so she could lap at the droplets. 

Sam had heard a multitude of noises from her in the day but nothing like the one where she laved at the cut with her tongue. Queenie let her head fall back with a shudder and in the moonlight he caught the shine of his blood on her lips. He splayed one hand between her shoulders and crashed their lips together, tasting the coppery tang of himself there. 

And something else. 

They both groaned into each other when they realised he’d cut her. A small nip on her lip which he pulled between his teeth when she tried to pull away. She shuddered against him as Sam sucked at the cut, his head spinning from the taste of her. 

His arm held her in place and she was so small compared to him it felt like he could break her if he pushed too hard but no matter how hard he pulled or pushed she was iron in his grip. He pounded into her, his breath a stuttering gasp against her lips and now he could feel her coming apart around him. 

The swirls across her body, her face, her eyes glowed with a light that could have cut him into pieces if he’d let it. 

He would have. 

Queenie dropped her hands to the bed and somehow he had the presence of mind to recognise that it was the same glow he’d seen before she’d taken Dean to their little dreamworld. 

“Give it to me,” he bit against her ear as she let herself bounce on him, accepting the force and speed of his thrusts and meeting them with harsh cracks of her hips. “Give it to me.” 

Her hand reached up to his face, pausing for just a moment in front of his face so Sam had a moment to back out. 

He didn’t. 

Her hands gripped him but it was nothing like the way she’d touched Dean. She cupped his face and his skin seemed to blister into bliss under her fingertips. The world around them was hazy and faded into an incoherent mass of nothing. 

There was nothing save for where he thrust into her wet heat and Queenie’s hands on him; holding his face as she used the leverage to take him deeper if such a thing had been possible. 

Anything seemed possible right now. 

Sam could feel her tight around him, he could feel himself deep inside her. His skin burned with fire so hot it couldn’t be painful and he wasn’t sure he was breathing but the only thing he needed was her lips against his. Bliss ignited across every nerve in his body, he had never been so in tune with it as he floated somewhere in the aether where the only thing that existed was Queenie in his arms. 

Her body went rigid against him and he felt the sparks within her, around her, within him and he felt himself approaching the edge. She whispered something in his ear, a string of moaned whimpers in a language he had no hope of placing when he was so close to release. 

She bit against his ear, positively softly compared to her earlier force but it was enough. He felt the tension within him swell and snap as he came and came hard, pumping still inside her as she rocked her hips with him, still whispering into his ear. 

The moment seemed to drag out forever. There was no end to it until he managed to finally take in a breath, drawing it harshly into his lungs before she stole it from him with her lips. There had been a bed beneath them at some point and presumably it was still there but that had been before. Before they had drifted into delirium. Still, Sam dropped back, hoping that the pillows would be there to catch him. 

If they weren’t, it was okay. Queenie was still wrapped around him. Her hands still strong against his back. 

He would not fall. 


	19. Chapter 19

Dean found Cas in the kitchen at the coffee maker. There were two cups waiting to be filled and it was a sign of how ridiculously happy he was that he smiled at the sight of them. He glanced around the place but the other djinn were discovering daytime television and weren’t paying them any attention so Dean stepped over and wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist, pressing his chest against Cas’ back. 

He left a small kiss behind Cas’ ear and breathed him in. “Mornin’ Cas.” 

He could feel Cas’ smile even if he couldn’t see it. “Good morning, Dean,” he said, softly. He seemed to be relishing this quiet domesticity as much as Dean was. 

They had talked some more into the night. They ended up ignoring the film altogether and pointedly ignoring the moans that echoed from Sam’s room. 

In the end, Dean hadn’t wanted to go to sleep. He hadn’t wanted to spend even a moment away from Cas not even to rest but Cas had insisted, reminding him that not twenty-four hours earlier he’d been hooked up to a djinn rig using his life force to sustain another. Cas had promised to watch over him. 

Cas had gone one step further and gotten into the bed with Dean. He’d pulled him onto his chest and traced long-forgotten endearments and half-remembered creeds into Dean’s skin. Dean had fallen asleep wondering if this wasn’t all some glorious dream and woken up realising that not even his dreams had been this sweet. 

Cas took him out of his reverie by handing him the cup of freshly brewed coffee and taking one for himself. Dean couldn’t help but cradle it in his hand for a moment. 

“Thanks, Cas,” he said softly but he meant  _ ‘I love you.’ _

“You’re welcome.” 

_ ‘I love you too.’ _

“So,” Dean started, instantly roused by the caffeine hit, “back home today?” 

_ ‘I can’t wait to get back so I can show you what you mean to me.’ _

Cas smiled knowingly at him from over his coffee cup. “I think so, yes.”

_ ‘I am going to teach you the meaning of bliss.’ _

They sipped their coffee in silence but their eyes never left each other. 

The first Dean knew of Sam’s arrival was his half-scoff, half-sigh as he groaned, “Seriously guys? Still with the eye thing?” 

Dean’s witty retort was on the tip of his tongue but it died quickly when he turned to face his brother. 

“What the hell happened to you?” came out instead. “You get into a fight when we weren’t looking?” 

Sam rolled his eyes and reached to make up his own coffee. “I’m fine,” he muttered as though what skin Dean could see wasn’t littered with tiny bruises varying from purple to yellow in their violence. There was a cut on his neck too and Dean was ninety-nine percent sure it hadn’t been there the day before. 

“No, seriously, did you go hunting or something last night? You look-”

“I’m fine, Dean,” Sam said again but a great deal firmer even though his attention didn’t waver from the coffee maker. 

Dean frowned and would have insisted but he saw that Cas was looking at him with just as much concern and he felt a little better for having the backup. 

“You have a minor fracture in your collar bone, Sam,” Cas said, quietly. “And there are traces of hallucinogen in your system but it doesn’t pose a risk.” 

Dean wasn’t sure what was going on but Sam had gone bright red and seemed to avoid Cas’ eye. 

“Would you at least like me to heal the fracture?” 

Sam’s hand froze over the coffee maker and if possible, he went an even deeper shade of red. “Please,” he muttered but as Cas reached for him, he stepped back. “You...you can leave the uh...marks...okay?” 

Cas looked infinitely uncomfortable but nodded. A touch of his grace and assumedly Sam was okay. 

“Okay, what the hell?” Dean snapped, wondering how he could have witnessed the exchange in its entirety and still not have any idea what was going on. 

Sam wasn’t going to answer, that much was obvious, but Cas cleared his throat awkwardly and caught Dean’s eye. 

“Sam and Queenie have been...fornicating.” 

Sam choked on the first sip of his coffee but Dean looked between the two of them, hardly enlightened. “Yeah, we heard. Everyone heard. They-” he gestured beyond the kitchen to indicate ‘the djinn’ as a whole, “-were asking me if you were their new king or whatever. I ain’t touching that one,” he added when Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s any of that got to do with you looking like you’ve gone ten rounds with-” 

Cas caught his eye again and shot him a pointed look. 

“Yeah, I get it,” Dean cried, not bothering to hide how exasperated he was. “They’re having sex, that doesn’t explain hi-” he broke off suddenly as his brain screeched to a halt. He looked at Sam but Sam couldn’t look back and instead had fixed his eyes on a point on the floor, drinking his coffee as though he had no other purpose in the world. Cas at least gave him a look that Dean assumed was meant to be sympathetic. 

“Alright, I’m done,” Dean announced. “I’m packing up Baby and I’m going home.” 

“Dean-” Sam started but Dean held his hands up.

“Hey bro, you do you but I ain’t sticking around to listen to it, okay? Besides we were heading back today anyway.” 

“ _We?_ ” Sam asked with half a smirk that he really had no right to given what Dean had just learned about him. 

“Me and Cas,” Dean sighed. “The djinn are packing up too, they’re heading back in a couple of days so you know...you can have a couple of days to...do...whatever.” 

“Alright,” Sam muttered, rolling his neck and wincing from the pain it evidently caused even though Cas had healed him. Gross. “Just...remember to air out the Bunker when you’re done.” 

Dean scoffed and almost cuffed Sam around the back of his head for nerve alone. “Says _you_ ,” Dean snapped and Sam had the good sense to look ashamed. 

There was an awkward silence for a moment where the three of them just drank their coffee and avoided looking at the other. 

“You really heading back today?” Sam asked, eventually. 

“Yup,” Dean said, having more of an urge to hit the road than he had just a few minutes before. “I’m gonna start loading Baby up...” he trailed off feeling like there was something else he should say but he couldn’t quite find the words when everything just got lost in his throat when he saw the bruises. 

In the end, he settled for an awkward laugh as he headed back to his room to grab what few things he’d kept there. He passed Queenie a couple of times on his journeys and he would have said ‘hi’ to her but then he saw that she had bruises too so he noped out of that pretty hard as well. 

Daneiel, on the other hand, came out to help him sort the blades back into Baby’s trunk. 

“It was nice meeting you, Dean Winchester,” he said, happily, offering his hand in an entirely human gesture he’d learned from the television Dean had recommended. 

Dean shook it with a smile, “You too.”

“Maybe we’ll see each other again?” Daneiel asked and there was no mistaking the hopefulness there. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Dean grinned. He wasn’t lying either. He wouldn’t mind if their paths crossed and if Sam carried on the way he was going then they likely would. But for now he just wanted to get back to the bunker with Cas. The house was nice and all but there were far too many people around for Dean’s liking. He wanted to get back to his own space with his own angel and give his memory foam mattress something to remember. 

The djinn all came out to see them off, though most of them satisfied themselves with a polite nod or a wave. 

Queenie said a long goodbye to Cas. They stood close together speaking in rapid Arabic that Dean couldn’t be mad at anymore because Cas looked so comfortable doing it. But then, Cas looking comfortable while doing something awesome had always been one of Dean’s kinks. They touched their foreheads together for a moment and when they parted it seemed final in a way the other farewells hadn’t been. 

Dean didn’t get the chance to question it though. 

“So. Dean Winchester,” Queenie said, turning to him at last. 

Dean felt like he should say something but he couldn’t think of anything. 

“Thank you for your help,” she said, eventually. “Without you, we would have lost the Garden.” 

“Without you, we wouldn’t have gotten Cas back,” Dean shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.” 

She smiled as though the notion of a conversation with Dean Winchester was the highlight of her day. 

“So uh...take care of yourself and...try not to break my brother.” 

Queenie laughed a high pure sound that erred on a side of chilling. “But he breaks so beautifully, Dean!” 

“Oh that's it, I’m going home,” Dean muttered. “Come on, Cas.” 

“Wait,” she said, realising that she’d teased him a step too far. “Sam has been teaching me about human relationships-”

Dean opened Baby’s door. “I really don’t want to know about what my brother’s been teaching you-”

“I just mean-” she insisted, “-I’ve learned that in hindsight marrying Castiel might not have been the best way to have drawn your attention to your affections for him. I’m sorry.”

Dean did pause at that though he wasn’t sure how to respond. 

“We’ll meet again,” she said and it sounded like a promise. 

Dean found that he didn’t completely hate the prospect. He wasn’t counting down the days but...he didn’t hate it. That was something. 

Then all there was to do was give Sam a good-natured pat on the back which they both regretted. It seemed the worst of Sam’s bruises were under his clothes. Dean rolled his eyes one last time and then jumped into Baby, settling himself comfortably and looking over to the passenger seat where he was met by Cas’ soft blue smile. 

This was exactly where he wanted to be. 

They had barely cleared the house’s driveway when Dean pulled over just so he could look at Cas. Cas looked back, taking in every detail of his gaze. 

It was the first time they had been alone. 

Truly alone.

The kiss they shared on Baby’s front seat felt like the first one all over again and reflected that sentiment. 

Dean had had longer drives back to the Bunker but every mile seemed to drag with Cas beside him. Cas’ hand was warm on Dean’s thigh and whether he was humming along to the mixtape, making observations on their surroundings or just looking at Dean, Dean found he wanted nothing more than to pull over again and kiss him again. 

He settled for occasionally raising Cas’ hand to his lips to leave a kiss on his knuckles and wondering when it was that he’d gotten so sappy. But then he’d look over at Cas’ smile that warmed Dean to his core and he couldn’t bring himself to mind. 

They talked more. Not just about each other and their feelings but about general things too. Dean had made the obligatory jokes about Cas’ wife leaving him for Sam but Cas had only taken that as an opportunity to reassure Dean that they had both released each other from the supposed bonds that already tied them. 

“I’m yours, Dean. I have only ever been yours,” he said as Dean felt his throat go dry and his pants felt tight. “Not even Heaven had this much of a claim to me.” 

They didn’t do much talking after that. 

Instead, there were the longing stares that had become the staple of their relationship thus far until the Bunker was finally, finally in sight. 

“Home,” Dean said as he cut the engine in the bunker’s garage. 

“Home,” Cas agreed and it seemed the word was laden with greater significance than it had ever had before. 

Neither of them moved for a moment and then Cas’ lips were soft against Dean’s and they were lost. 

Somehow they made it out of Baby without losing a breath of space between them. Dean pressed Cas against the car which in itself drew a moan from Cas’ lips. Dean’s hands were everywhere; sliding under Cas’ coat, running down his shoulders, moving lower to cup the swell of his ass but then Cas broke the kiss and tried to get himself under control. 

“Dean. I have waited a long time for this. Bedroom. Now.” 

Dean nodded as Cas reclaimed his lips in a searing kiss, backing them towards the garage door. They stumbled through the corridors though they paused several times so that they could push each other and use the wall as leverage to better devour each other. 

“Dean,” Cas warned and Dean took a moment to smile at him.

“Patience is a virtue,” he teased but Cas only rolled his eyes. 

“I feel we have been patient enough,” he snapped as he all but dragged Dean towards the bedroom.

_Their_ bedroom.

Dean kicked the door shut behind them even though there was nobody around to hear them. But he wanted this to be just them. Just him and Cas as they had been meant to be. It was only the two of them. The rest of the world faded into nothing. Nothing existed beyond the door to that bedroom. 

For a moment they stared at each other. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off Cas’ lips at the best of times but now they were flushed, swollen and looked even more inviting than usual. For his part, Cas seemed to be enjoying the view just as much. 

Wordlessly they crossed the short space between them and met in the middle with a heated kiss. Cas’ lips drew fire where they touched Dean’s skin and Dean could only hold on, threading his fingers into Cas’ shirt, pulling him close. Cas’ hand found its way to the place on Dean’s arm where his handprint had once burned and Dean whimpered into Cas’ lips. 

He wanted to tell him how much he meant to him but such a thing was impossible. He opened his mouth but all Dean heard himself say was, “Cas...I...”

It was nothing but it was apparently enough. Cas covered his lips with his own and weaved his fingers into Dean’s hair. “I know,” he whispered.

Dean decided there and then that Cas leading him to his own bed was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to him. 

“Lie down, Dean,” Cas murmured, even though they were already moving together, sliding onto the bed as though they belonged there. 

In Dean’s opinion they did. 

Propping himself up on his elbows, Dean watched as Cas slipped off his coat, his suit but he paused when it came to his shirt; popping the buttons but leaving it hang on him. 

“Cas,” Dean breathed. It was the only thing he could say. The only thing he could imagine saying for some time. 

Cas settled between his legs, pressing his lips to Dean’s naval and trailing them upwards as he removed the shirt between them. There was something sinful about the way Cas’ shirt brushed across Dean’s skin as he reached to touch Cas’ chest just so that he could touch skin. 

But Cas took his time. He stripped Dean of more than just his clothes, leaving him bare in every way possible as he kissed his way across every inch of skin, every freckle, every part of Dean that he’d once rebuilt. There wasn’t a single part of him that Cas hadn’t kissed and Dean felt like he was floating even though he could feel the firm mattress beneath him. 

Cas’ shirt joined the rest of the clothes in the pile as did everything else he was wearing. 

Dean stared. 

He couldn’t help it. He had free reign to stare as much as he liked and he was determined to indulge. 

Cas did the same before he settled himself once more and claimed Dean’s lips with his own. 

Dean had always known that Cas had rebuilt him after Hell but lying on his bed, having Cas baptise those parts of him with his mouth, was like learning it all over again. His cock rested heavily against his stomach even though Cas had hardly neglected it with his touch, with his lips but Dean needed more. 

“C’mon Cas,” he pleaded. He hadn’t intended to beg but Cas was just so...so much. “Make me yours,” he added and he felt a thrum surge through his body at the possessive spark that flared in Cas’ eyes. 

“You’ve always been mine,” Cas murmured, nipping at Dean’s ear. “But if you need a reminder, I would be happy to oblige.” 

And then Cas’ lips were gone only to settle between Dean’s legs and then he was truly lost. Cas adjusted Dean’s hips, lapping at the most private part of him, spearing him with his tongue with expert precision. Cas had mentioned that he knew Dean’s body better than Dean knew it himself and now he seemed determined to prove it. 

“Cas-” Dean gasped but there wasn’t much else he could say. There wasn’t much else he could think. 

Castiel: Angel of the Lord who had gripped him tight was now working Dean open with his tongue and his fingers to lay an altogether different kind of claim on him. 

The thought did things to Dean that not even Cas’ clever tongue was doing. He rolled his head back against the covers and groaned, rocking his hips slightly, inviting Cas deeper. His own cock strained between them, practically begging to be touched but Dean knew that if he touched it would be over and there was no way Dean would let this end so soon. Not after so long…

Dean reached into the drawer beside his bed and without needing to look fished out a mostly used bottle of lube. He all but threw it at Cas who didn’t stop his onslaught against Dean’s hole but rather chuckled instead, the vibrations spreading to Dean’s core. 

He wasn’t going to survive this. 

“Need you, angel,” Dean breathed, trying not to think about how good Cas felt inside him when he wanted to really feel Cas inside him. “Please.” 

He heard the click of the bottle and Cas adjusted his position. They hadn’t specifically talked about how they would do this and Dean wasn’t sure when it was that Cas had apparently become a Sex God with the talent of several incubi but he was in no way complaining. 

Everything felt perfect. 

Everything felt right. 

How it was meant to be. How it should always have been. 

He felt the blunt head of Cas’ slick cock press where his lips had been just a moment ago and Dean tried not to tense. 

It was easy to relax when he was looking up at an angel. 

His angel. 

Then Cas pressed in and Dean couldn’t help but cry out. Cas leaned over to taste his whimpers, inching in slowly as he did so.

Dean was on fire. He was burning up and would do so happily if it meant he could feel like this forever. 

Cas paused when he was fully seated, looking down on Dean with a gaze that he might have once found uncomfortable in its intensity. But now Dean met it, hoping he could convey every ounce of want through his eyes alone. 

“I love you,” Dean murmured and finally Cas started to move. 

He didn’t thrust, he rocked. He rolled his hips, grinding into Dean in filthy circles causing Dean to cry out with every motion. 

“Dean,” Cas gasped and he sounded wrecked. His eyes were screwed shut but already Dean could see the glimmer of grace bleeding through them and Dean rolled his hips to match Cas, wanting to see him lose control. 

“Dean...I can’t-”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean murmured, reaching down to stroke himself in time with Cas’ movements. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. Let me feel you.” 

Dean never babbled during sex but then he’d never been brought to the very precipice of bliss before. He thought he’d known good sex in the past but everything paled in comparison to the way Cas took him apart, picking up speed as he fucked himself into Dean desperate to claim him in the only way he hadn’t so far. 

Dean’s hand started to pump his cock furiously. He wanted to come with Cas. He wanted to paint them both with his release as Cas filled him. He wanted-

Cas came first with a strangled cry and a minor shockwave that sent whatever Dean had thrown onto his desk to the floor. Dean locked his eyes on Cas’ taking in the way the blue had given way to something far more urgent, far more angelic and in no time at all he followed Cas over the edge, just as Cas whispered into Dean’s ear, “I love you.”

Cas crashed down onto the bed beside him as Dean threaded his fingers into Cas’ hair and decided he was never going to let him go. He’d been so worried about messing this up that he’d been too afraid to start it for too long. But none of that seemed to matter anymore. 

“Bet you never did that with your wife,” Dean snorted before he could stop himself. He wanted to bang his head into the wall but Cas only laughed. 

“I’ve never done that with anyone,” he smiled, tracing the details of Dean’s face with his fingertips. “Only with you. Only in my dreams.” 

“You saying you dream about me, Cas?” Dean teased, wishing that he could commit himself fully to the moment and just tell him that he loved him like he wanted to. 

But Cas could see through him. 

Cas had always seen through him. Even from the start. 

“Every night, Dean,” he said softly. “Every night.”


End file.
